A Lesson in the Temporal
by simba317
Summary: Summer of '69 Contest entry. 2nd place! AU/AH. Eric's car breaks down in Bon Temps in July 1st, 1969 and Sookie's life is fundamentally changed in one week. SECOND CHAPTER UPDATED!
1. Damned

**Title:** A Lesson in the Temporal

**Name:**simba317

**Characters:** Sookie, Eric, Amelia, Bill, Tray, Pam

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the SVM, if I did, Eric would be mine. ;)

**Author's Notes:** This fic was first and foremost inspired by The Stooges' "I Wanna Be Your Dog." I really wanted this fic to have a dark, gritty feel to it. Plus, I'm a huge metal fan, so I knew I had to go for Iggy. He's proto-metal and proto-punk. I wanted something heavy…and he just fit. This takes place in 1969 because I wanted my musical cues to fit and I also wanted this fic to be about the end of innocence in many ways.

What I know about the 60s and 70s comes mostly from watching VH1 docs, reading Aerosmith's autobiography, Walk This Way, as well as Slash's and what Slash has said about growing up in LA during that period. So when I thought about that period, it had a lot to do with what Slash said in an interview in October of 2006 about how the Shannon Tate murder by Charles Manson's cult was really the end of innocence and free love in the LA area. That being said, things aren't going to get THAT dark, it's just what was going through my head writing this. I also got inspiration from the True Blood opening credits.

Big shout out to my beta and good friend sawyersmine/Ericcanbiteme for being my beta and the one who I've been sharing my vision with for the last month. You're one of my favourite fishbitches! Thanks to V4E as my second pair of eyes and to OV too.

* * *

Bon Temps, Louisiana was every bit my prison. Perhaps nothing more exemplified that than the tightness of the collar on my Sunday dress around my neck. It was my noose, always choking, ever tighter with every year that passed me by and I was still trapped.

I had few expectations, they were my chastity, my good manners and my marriage to a man that was appropriate in wealth and status to my own. My duty was to expand the prestige, wealth and business connections of my family and to bear sons.

I wanted nothing more than to burn and ignite under the hot, unrepentant sun to escape all this. But my ambitions could not bear flame like Icarus'.

In the unrelenting night I had always wondered, 'What about me? What of my hopes and dreams?'

I had been a good student, exceptional. I had wanted to go to Harvard for Literature upon graduation, but I was to be a lady and a damn good one at that. So here I was on my nineteenth birthday, two years down this path of this drudgery knowing that all roads were coming to an end, the noose was tightening and I couldn't even scream.

That July day was murderously hot and humid, as oppressive as the life that bound me. Our local church, the largest, oldest and most prestigious in Renard Parish was holding a bake sale for the local veteran's hospital. Naturally, I was made to host. After all, my father, Corbett Stackhouse, was the most decorated war hero of the Second World War in Bon Temps, not to mention from the wealthiest and oldest family here. It is also worth mentioning that I was his last eligible daughter.

The ladies in their prim dresses twittered about the hall regaling each other with their recipes and adventures in cooking. The room was only merciful thanks to the ceiling fans. Bon Temps had truly come out for the event. The town was a curious mix of esteemed families whose wealth came from old money or the former plantations in the area and the families who had worked for them, the middleclass and the poor.

Every now and then one of the twittering women would come over and wish me happy birthday. It was, "Happy Birthday, Suzie," by hundreds of people who cared nothing for me. I hated the nickname Suzie for my real name, Susannah. I much preferred my grandmother's pet name for me, Sookie. My formulaic and calculated responses to them held the approval of my mother.

Genevieve Stackhouse watched over me from the corner like a hawk, her eyes measuring any missteps I had with distaste. Her colouring was nothing like mine, her hair was chestnut brown and her skin was creamy pale. The only thing that hinted to our relation was our matching steely grey blue eye colour and the look of our face and body type. My blonde hair and sun kissed glow came from my father. She was of French heritage, really Cajun, but she only ever used the term 'Acadian'. Whereas my father was old money from Europe, hers had worked for it through the plantations and various business investments.

Every action, every word of mine was taken in by her critiquing eye. She paid special attention to my appearance making sure that my naturally wavy blonde hair that had been straightened and styled in a perfectly curled bun had not one hair out of place, that my hemline stayed ladylike, that my hands were placed just so, that my manner was pleasant. At the same time she was also patting herself on the back from the compliments my appearance drew for she had chosen my outfit- A sea foam green dress with a boat necked collar, short puffed sleeves and fitted bodice with a ruched skirt that flared past my waist and stopped near my knees, finished with a pair of flat patent leather Mary Janes and my grandmother's pearl necklace.

The necklace would have felt like a manacle around my neck, chaining me to the insisting tradition of my family, had it not been my dear grandmother's. Adele Stackhouse had been the one stabilizing factor in my family, my only saving grace. Without her, I felt lost. She had died just over a year and a half ago. Yet my heart still longed desperately for her warm, safe presence.

I was desperately alone. As the last Stackhouse sibling, I was the only one left in our palatial monstrosity of a house. Claude was studying law at Harvard after being forced into enlisting by my father into military service. His twin, Claudine, my closest confidante, was off in upstate New York, married and pregnant with her third baby. She was lucky to have actually fallen in love with a man that my parents could approve of. My other elder brother, Jason, had escaped military service, only by Claude's persistent insistence after fighting in Vietnam, was at Notre Dame on a football scholarship.

My best friend, Amelia Broadway, spent most of the year at Louisiana State University and it was just hard when all you had between the months were phone calls and letters. It was the same way with Claudine, only she was even further away and even more removed from me with how different her life was from mine. Amelia had been allowed to go to university. Hell, even encouraged. Of course, she wasn't a friend with the approval of my mother.

Her father, Copley Carmichael, was a man from a wealthy and prestigious family. Only he was deeply changed after seeing combat in World War II. He just wasn't the same. He and Amelia's mother had been married just before he went off to war, but their marriage fell apart in the years after and no child could fix it either. Copley was in construction and moved down to New Orleans for business, leaving his former family behind. Oh sure, Amelia and her mother still received money, benefits and a nice household from him, but the scandal was still a scandal. Not to mention that her mother had remarried to a roaming artist of some note who settled in Bon Temps, a clear step down from her previous prestige, even though his works fetched thousands and hundreds of thousands in galleries in New York, London and Paris.

At long last after hours of baking in the overstuffed church hall with insufficient cooling, the bake sale had ended and the only people who remained were the organizers. Unsurprisingly, all the left over goods were going to the food bank. Could I breathe a sigh of relief or drop down on a chair? No. On top of my mother and her criticizing eye were the society ladies and their equally criticizing eyes. A bead of sweat escaped from my brow. Internally, I sighed, outwardly I daintily took my handkerchief and dabbed it off.

Soon, we had packed up all the leftover food and were headed off to drop off the food into Mrs. Caroline Holliday Bellefleur's shiny new Lincoln. She had volunteered to drive the food over to the food bank. Apparently even the poor needed desserts. The well dressed cows were going home and a few more words bidding goodbye to people not even of my age group and I could drive myself home. My mother would be having tea at Maxine Fortenberry's. Thank God for that. I'd be picked apart to pieces, but at least I wouldn't need to be in the room.

When I reached the gothic inspired doors of the church, carrying a box of cake, there seemed to be some sort of commotion. A few of the remaining ladies had stalled and gathered, whispering amongst themselves. I vaguely wondered at their scandalized airs but thought nothing of it. That is, until I found the source of their commotion as I crossed the threshold onto the stone steps outside. Then all my thoughts became focused on that cause.

There, on the other side of the road across from the church steps, with the radio blazing a new rock n' roll song that my mother would wrinkle her nose at, was a god of a man hunched over the hood of a shiny red Camaro. Smoke billowed all about him from the hood of the car. From the heat of the day against my face, it was easy to see that the engine had overheated. He was shirtless and his beautiful tanned and sweaty skin glistened overtop lean, perfectly defined muscles in the sunlight. The shirt had become an oil stained mess in his hands as he used it in an attempt to fix the engine. Streaks of black oil ran over his chest and abdominals. He wore nothing but pair of worn blue jeans and he was barefoot. For a moment I wondered why his feet were bare and how he could manage it in the heat of the road, but all I could hear was the racing of my heart and the shallowness of my breaths. To my surprise, a heat spread throughout my limbs. I had never been so affected by a man.

The man braced his hands on the lip of the opened hood and raised his face to the heavens. His long blond hair streamed down his shoulders and back unbound. He was Thor asking why Odin had taken away his hammer. He sighed dramatically and on long strong legs went to lean against the driver's side door with his arms crossed across his immaculate chest to rest for a moment. He really was a mountain of a man now that I saw him all stretched out. I caught a glimpse of his face, every bit as perfect as the rest of him, strong jaw and noble nose. He began tapping his feet and bobbing his head to the beat of the song as if to relax. My ears caught a few strains. "_Well I stand up next to a mountain and I chop it right down with the end of my hand._" Voodoo Child, I realized, Jimi Hendrix.

"_Well I pick up all the pieces and make an island, might even raise a little sand." _

All of a sudden his eyes snapped to mine and I was pinned to the most beautiful blue eyes I had ever seen. They were like the war between the sky and the sea during a storm, violently beautiful in its destructiveness. My mouth went dry and I was caught by the strangest sensation of foreshadowing.

"'_Cause I'm a Voodoo Child, Lord knows I'm a Voodoo Child." _

Was he working some sort of magic on me? I didn't know. All I did know was that all of a sudden, he had pushed off the car and was bounding across the road gracefully, like a wolf, with a predatory grin on his face baring his teeth.

He came up the steps of the church to the gasps of the women around me. I'd forgotten about them somewhere along the way. When he stopped, his face was inches away from mine and his body even closer. I could count his fair lashes and tell you the exact colliding blue shades in his eyes. I could feel the heat from his body and the smell of earth, sweat and motor oil too. He was more beautiful up close.

"_I said I didn't mean to take up all of your sweet time. I'll give it right back one of these days."_

He looked down at me with mischief in his eyes. "Tell me," he purred as his eyes dropped and leered down the length of my body and straight back up to my eyes. He licked his lips sinfully, drawing my attention to a most delectable set of lips I had ever seen on a male.

"Yes?" I almost whimpered drawing a gasping breath.

"Could you help me out?" he said deeply. "I'm in need of assistance." He was from the north, Yankee, but in the sultry tones of his rumbling voice was something I just couldn't put my finger on, not quite an accent, but a slight inflection of something other.

"Perhaps with your…fine self?" His head tilted to the side, his eyebrow piqued. He smirked and made no effort to hide the innuendo of his words. His intent was obvious from his devouring gaze.

"I am a lady," I remarked firmly. No matter my attraction, I had morals and scruples.

His smile twitched and his nose wrinkled as he said, "Of course you are."

I saw red. How dare he? How dare he presume and make assumptions about me? His arrogance and his obvious pass…I wanted to slap him, slap off that smile.

My brows creased, I glared at him and ground out, "You should go. Now."

"You turn away one in need of help at this place of refuge?" he asked mockingly, in a falsely indignant tone with that damned smile.

"You pervert God's holiness in his very house," I seethed.

"Even God would love my perversions," he said easily, the words spilled undeterred from his tongue like a snake.

"Do you have an answer for everything?" I snarked. Maxine Fortenberry gasped. Oh my mother was definitely hearing this. Dammit.

A single eyebrow rose, "I do." His eyes glanced up at the sign on top of the door, 'Bon Temps Veterans' Hospital Bake Sale'.

When his eyes came back on mine they were crinkled with mirth, "I am a veteran."

"Of course you are," I repeated mockingly. Maxine Fortenberry was now muttering to Lettie Mae Thorton. She was scandalized enough to converse with a black woman. Shit.

I sighed; I must be a good Christian, "There is a telephone in the reverend's office down the hall to the right."

He smiled down at me triumphant, "Thank you," He paused. "Your name is?"

"None of your concern," I remarked and walked around his half naked body, down the steps and towards Mrs. Bellefleur's car to drop off the cake. I could feel his unholy gaze on me all the way down. As I turned towards the parking lot I could see him stepping into the church doors past my mother. He had the audacity to wink at her.

"_If I don't meet you no more in this world, then I'll meet you in the next one." _

At Mrs. Bellefleur's car, I was rearranging the boxes for safe transport when my mother's voice stopped me cold, "Were you talking to that…hippie? Susannah?" She spat out the word hippie like it was synonymous with a serial rapist and murderer.

I sighed again, facing her hard eyes, "Even hippies need God's help."

She harrumphed in reply.

* * *

A glass of alcohol landed behind me on the bar, shaking me out from my reverie as I was watching Amelia dancing with her boyfriend, Tray, with envy. I wished I could be part of that crowd dancing, talking, laughing, normal.

"No thanks. I'm 19."

"You look like you need it. I won't tell anyone. Promise." That voice! Whipping my head around, I was met with the amused blue eyes of the man I'd encountered at the church earlier that day. Right now he had a white t-shirt on. Damn shame. He seemed to be helping out Sam, one of Claude's school friends, out with the bar, Merlotte's. He ran the dive since his dad died.

I merely glared at him.

"I didn't put anything in it. Go ahead," he said as he pushed it to me, "Gin and tonic."

When I didn't respond, he sighed, "Truce?"

"Fine." I grabbed that glass and gulped it down quick. It burned all the way down my throat. I shook my head. He had made it strong.

He looked at me almost proudly. "What you got to drink about anyway?" I had heard this so many times.

"Don't mock me. You don't know me. You have choices. I'm breeding stock." Everything I had been trying to escape rammed back into me, my parents, the pending engagement to my suitor, Bill. It was eminent.

He let out a short laugh, extending a large hand, "I'm Eric Northman."

When I didn't respond again, he said, "Oh come now. You're a lady. I don't bite."

I rolled my eyes but humoured him. In my most monotone voice, I said, "Sookie Stackhouse, howdeedo?"

"So what's wrong with him?" he asked with an indulgent smile.

I groaned, I so didn't want to get into this. When I thought about Bill, only one thing came to mind, dread, "Nothing. I just don't care about him. He's a war vet, perfect for daddy's businesses and for my mama's ideas of family status. I'll just never be happy."

He nodded thoughtfully, "All of us laughing, none of us happy."

"All they talk about is free love, but love isn't free."

"So what would make you happy?" he asked suddenly.

"Well, I wanted to go to Harvard, study Literature, maybe teach," I said.

Unfortunately, my curiosity was piqued about him and I didn't have anything better to do. Not to mention, he seemed to keep my mind off my family. "What're you doing here anyway? Tending bar."

"Gotta pay to get my car fixed somehow." I nodded.

"What are you doing in this place? I doubt your parents would approve."

"They wouldn't." I gestured with my head towards Amelia, "See her over there? She's my best friend. She dragged me here for my birthday, so I could have fun, be normal. I made a deal with my mama. Host that bake sale and I get to spend my birthday with her, instead of getting engaged to Bill in some elaborate set up."

"And here I thought you were mature for your age," he said dryly.

"Oh yes, I have so much in common with women who need walkers," I replied.

"Where are y'all from anyway?" I asked. Something about him made me want to know more.

"St. Paul, Minnesota."

I raised an eyebrow. "Why are you so far south?"

He leaned on the bar, smirking, "Because I can."

"Right. Of course. Hippie."

Eric raised his eyebrow, "Please. They are too…desperately cheerful."

I couldn't escape the giggle that escaped my throat. Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe he had intended it, but I was talking to him. Some man requested a drink and Eric was off, the spell was broken.

* * *

Unfortunately for me, by closing time, Amelia was nowhere in sight, nor her car. Anger pulsed through my veins. She must have driven off with Tray. Sam had gone hours before, of on some damned fishing trip.

A sense of helplessness ran through me. I'd have no choice but to call the house and have my father come fetch me. The thought made my hands shake, the things he'd say to me if he saw me here…

It was then I felt a hand cover my shoulder. Warmth flooded into my body. "You need a ride?"

Just as I was about to protest, he hooked a hand through my elbow, grabbed my coat and purse and dragged me into the parking lot. Only his Camaro and a few cars remained. Fishing his keys out of his leather jacket, he unlocked the passenger door, before doing the same to his.

For someone of his size, he climbed into the car pretty gracefully. His door slammed shut as he started the engine. "Come on. Get in."

I sighed. For some reason it felt like going in that car would signal a change for me, but I had no choice.

The drive was quiet after I gave him directions to my house. I told him to park a ways a way, lest my parents saw me. Amelia and I had worked out when we were 14 that the trees on the road were near impenetrable to sight through the windows of my house. He found it amusing when I told him to cut the lights.

"Do you want us to be discovered?" I hissed. He shrugged. I had the urge to slap him again.

Something glinted off the rear view mirror in the moonlight. A pair of dog tags taped together with white medical tape. "What's someone like you doing with dog tags?"

A pause… "I'm a grave robber," he said blankly. Something flashed in his eyes darkly.

A pregnant silence passed before he started laughing. Fuck it. I punched him hard in the arm and opened the door. Stepping out of the car, I thanked Claude and Jason for their lessons.

"Wait," he followed me out. Dammit.

I began walking to the gate, I could make it climbing over that fence even in high heels. Unfortunately, his long legs caught me before I reached it, blocking me.

He was smiling at me again. "The gentlemanly thing for me to do would be to drop you off at your porch. Since we have to forgo that, I'll settle for a kiss." Was he for real?

An indignant look crossed my face, but before I could respond his soft lips were on mine. His hand cupped my cheek gently and he was kissing me in a way no one ever had before, open mouthed, free, passionate. To my horror, I found myself responding, responding in kind. His tongue licked my bottom lip and my mouth opened just enough for him to run his tongue against mine. I pushed his tongue back and ran my tongue along his teeth. Soon he was determined to find my tonsils. And then I was fully making out with Eric, a practical stranger. I had never felt so much from just a kiss. I never wanted it to end.

When I broke for air, I was breathless and gasping. "I should go," I whispered, staring into his eyes.

Something clouded over in his eyes, he looked at me strangely. Maybe the kiss had gotten to him too? "Yes, you should." He sounded hoarse.

I snuck into my bedroom shaking all the way.

* * *

Avoiding Eric on Wednesday proved difficult. He had awakened something in me, I couldn't stop thinking about him and our kiss, but my life was thrumming all around me, telling me it was impossible. Besides, he was beautiful, yes, but a total asshole.

I could feel Eric's eyes on me all the time as I tried to disengage from the conversation and leave. Who thought filling up your Mustang could be so challenging? Eric was working at Tray's family's autoshop and gas pump and Tray wanted to make small talk just before I could escape unnoticed. Damn him.

There was something on the tip of Eric's tongue. I could see it on his face. He was temptation for me. He could ruin me. Everything in my body was screaming for him, but my mind was saying a strong 'hell no!' I was only lucky enough that Tray asked Eric to look at the carburetor of the Corvette he was working on, distracting him enough for me to make my exit.

By Thursday, I thought I was lucky as I was coming out of the library. I should have known that the fates had other plans. I felt an arm wrap around my shoulders as I walked along the street. I knew it was him from the moment I felt the sparks run through my body.

"Good afternoon, Sookie," he whispered in my ear, causing me to shiver.

I pushed his arm off me and continued walking. It didn't stop him, he merely followed.

Plucking the book from my hand, he looked at the cover, "_Crime & Punishment_, how depressing."

I snatched it out of his grasp, glaring the entire time, "Of course, you're a sociopath, aren't you?"

"You should be a good sociopath too and go on a date with me," he said just as soon as I finished.

I stopped in my tracks, balking, "What!?"

"Come. On. A. Date. With. Me." He repeated the words slowly.

"Are you crazy?"

"Would you like to see my medical records?" he asked with a smile, but something dark had crossed his eyes. His blonde hair flapped in the breeze.

"Oh come on. Live a little. What do you have to lose? Wouldn't you like to get out of that house on a Friday night?"

What did I have to lose? Everything. What was there to gain?

"There's nothing to gain," I said firmly.

"I'm good company."

"So far all you've done is insult me."

"Still on that are you?"

"Yes."

One second he was to my right and the next he had grabbed my hand with both of his with a sombre expression on his face, "Angelic Sookie, vision of love and beauty, I am prostrate that my crass words have insulted your grace and virtue. Allow me to humble myself and rectify my actions to you on a date."

I couldn't stop the smile that broke from my lips, nor the laugh that slid out, or the words when I uttered them, "Okay."

"Seven o'clock then? Tomorrow night. Same place I dropped you off on Tuesday night?" he said with a grin that was growing to melt me.

"Alright," I said, but when I caught Eric's face, his attention was elsewhere, dark. He dropped my hand slowly and walked around me.

Following his body I watched him approach Rene Lenier's chained up wolfhound. The poor thing was probably the saddest creature in the world. Let's just say that Rene was about as good to women as he was his dog.

Eric crouched down and patted his ears, then to my surprise removed his chain and collar. He pulled the dog up and pushed it on its way. It didn't take much encouragement; he gave us one last look and darted down the street.

"Why'd you do that?" I asked.

Something crossed in his eyes, something personal, "Nothing should be caged." I wanted to know what made those looks flash in his eyes.

As quickly as it appeared, it was gone again and for a second time, Eric's mouth was on mine, kissing me breathless. Sparks shot through my limbs and heat spread through my body. Out of my own accord, I'd wrapped my arms around his body, as his hands ran down my back. The things he did to my tongue and mouth were scandalous, but the same feelings that shot through me from our first kiss, echoed through me again.

When he broke off, I was happy to see he was as flustered as I was.

He ran his thumb across my lip, "I'll see you Friday, lover."

* * *

That night he took me to a dancehall in Monroe. I'd felt like the queen of the ball. We danced, laughed and talked all night. I would have been happy for those moments to go on forever, where I could just be in his arms and he'd twirl me around, where we were no different than any other couple, where I was no different from any other girl. The way he looked at me, like no one had ever looked at me before, his blue eyes storming in collision, it made my heart want to burst. I was lost forever to his eyes. When he kissed me, I thought I might explode. It felt like he could feel me, every pore, every crevice, right into my soul. I felt like I could feel his essence through his touch and I wanted it for myself.

If I could save one moment for the rest of my life, it would be right here, right then with Eric Northman as we danced and danced, like tomorrow didn't exist.

We later stopped in a 24 hour diner to eat a little. He couldn't take his eyes off of me. I suppose I wasn't much better, I couldn't stop looking at him. Amelia had snuck over earlier and helped me pick an outfit, a white halter sundress with red roses on the fabric. My hair had been left to hang in its natural waves about my shoulders and back. She had completed the look with red pumps and red earrings. I looked good. I'd be fried by my parents if they caught me in this outfit, but I found I didn't care. This was what normal people did. They went on dates with their honey and went to the diner for burgers and shakes. Normal girls got to stare at their handsome men in dark jeans and a stark white t-shirt.

We lingered at that diner. I didn't want the date to end. I guess he didn't either, like if it ended, the moment would be gone forever. We both sensed it. I knew then that all we could ever have was one night. Tomorrow our real lives would destroy us.

So when he turned off the road from the way to Bon Temps, I didn't stop him. I wanted one night, just one night. It would have to be enough.

He drove and drove along an unpaved road and then on the grass for awhile until at last he stopped. The summer night buzzed all around us, its thick heady heat wrapped us tight, the fireflies glowed and the stars shimmered over top the shadowed trees. We had reached a clearing on the banks of a dark lake with trees, guarding sentinels.

I didn't ask when he got out of the car, grabbed some wood and made a roaring fire, like a Viking pyre, a pagan offering to long forgotten gods. I helped him. He had left the radio in the car on and the music pouring out of its speakers was sensual and seductive.

When he laid down a blanket from the Camaro on the grass, I sat upon it, staring over the dark waters of mystery, the fathomless sky. I wished I could be the night.

When Eric kissed me, I kissed him right back. He played no games with me this time. His kiss was hard, rough, primal and passionate. It ripped across my body. I pulled him flush against my body. I wanted to be close to him, I needed to be close to him. His hands caressed my body in ways I had been untouched by any man before him. I felt every bit on fire. If this was hell, I welcomed it with open arms. I was beyond heaven and hell or sin and nothing could touch us. This was beautiful, not shaming.

His hands ran up the bare skin of my thighs and palmed my breasts through my dress. I was moaning and writhing on the ground like a wild thing while his touch ignited me and I wanted to touch him too. I ran my hands over his arms, his shoulders, back, chest and stomach, feeling the muscle and skin underneath the clothes. He was on top of me and when we both felt his bulge rub against me, we moaned. I could feel my panties grow dripping wet. All the while we kissed with fervour and I returned every feeling he stirred within me. Only I wanted more and so did he.

So when he undid the knot at my neck and pulled the dress over my head I could only smile. I ran my hands along his abs and finding the hem of his t-shirt, pulled it over his head. He laughed at my anxiousness. His body was just as beautiful as it had been before. I loved the way it glinted from the flickering light of the flames. I helped him with his pants and soon we were only in our underwear. A sudden fear replaced my previous boldness.

Eric's hand tilted my chin, so he could see my face, "What is it?"

"It's just…I'm…Eric, I'm a virgin," I whispered, I hated how my voice shook.

He kissed my cheek sweetly, "It'll be good, I promise."

He lay me down on the blanket gently and kissed my fears away. His hand was splayed on my bare stomach and tortuously dipped down until it was at the edge of my panties. Without preamble, his fingers slid inside and touched me intimately. I moaned.

"Oh Sookie, you are so wet," he groaned out. I felt bereft at the loss of his touch when he took his fingers and licked my juices off his fingers. But he only aroused me more when he said, "You taste delicious."

He kissed me then, running his hands in my hair. His amazing wonderful hands, they then slid down my shoulders and before I knew it was at my back and my bra was gone and he was kissing his way down my neck and onto my chest. The first open mouthed kiss over my bare nipple made my back arch into his touch as he licked and sucked at it. His other hand teased and pinched my other breast. My breasts and nipples were desperately aroused at his touch. My nipples were hardened and sensitive. He took advantage of that.

Palming my breasts, he smiled at me, "You have the most beautiful breasts I've ever seen." I blushed. "But what of the other parts of you?"

His hands came to my panties and pulled them clean off and then I was totally exposed to him. "You really are beautiful," he said licking his lips. Then his mouth was on me, licking my nub and his fingers were inserted into my folds, pumping into me slowly, tortuously. I was screaming and writhing on the ground.

When he emerged his eyes were burning. "What I really want is to be inside you."

"Then come inside me," I invited. He smiled and pulled off his boxer briefs. I had never seen a man naked before, but I knew then he was the only man I ever wanted to. He hissed when I touched his cock.

Before I knew it I was on my back and his cock was pressing against my slit and my maidenhood.

"This will hurt."

"I know, but just hurry up."

He smiled and pushed into me slowly. Pain shot through my body. I muffed my scream by biting his shoulder. When the pain stopped, I could hear a song coming into focus. It was "I Wanna Be Your Dog" by the Stooges. The dark, sensual song spurred me forward and Eric began to thrust into me as he wrapped my legs around his waist.

"…_now I'm ready to feel your hand and lose my heart in the burning sands." _

"Fuck, you're so tight," he said, gritting his teeth, trying to get some semblance of control.

"_And now I wanna be your dog…"_

He was so big, so hard and filled me up completely and the friction of his thrusts was driving me crazy, I couldn't get enough. His mouth was on my mouth, my neck, my collar bone and his hand was massaging my breasts and pinching my nipples all the while. I was lost to the sensations and the pounding riff of the song as he rammed into me again and again. I lost myself to the knife's edge of pleasure.

"_And now I wanna be your dog…_"

When his lips returned to mine to do battle with my tongue, I forgot about his hand until he began rubbing achingly slow circles on my clit while thrusting into me with more speed and vigour. I was screaming into his mouth. When he found my sweet spot, I was seeing sparks. When he hit it again and again, I was digging my nails into the large expanse of his back and scratching roughly. He let out a yell of his own.

It made me brave. I scratched him harder along his back. My hands wandered down to his ass. I had been made aware of it while dancing. It looked delectable. It felt even better. I kneaded and scratched it. He made a grunt of pleasure and rubbed my clit harder. But when I slipped my hand down to squeeze his balls, he really let me have it. He rammed into me even harder and I threw my head back, screaming his name. I was so close.

"Lover, look into my eyes," he said suddenly and my eyes snapped to his. In pleasure they were gorgeous, dilated, alive, clouded with lust and passion. I could feel him pulsing in me, his thrusting became erratic and then I felt my walls clamp down on his hardness and an overwhelming pleasure pour all over me. Not long after I felt his seed being emptied into my womb and looking into his eyes, our mutual pleasure fed each other's.

His head was resting next to mine and we were both panting when he pulled out of me and pulled me against his warm body to ward off the chill of the night. We were both naked but I felt no need to be dressed. Not with him.

"How'd you find this place?" I asked.

He smiled, "Driving around. I felt like a detour, an adventure."

His hands gently stroked my arm and back as I did the same to his chest and abs.

Right along his hip, I came upon a slightly raised portion of skin. My eyes revealed a long scar. I ran my finger along it. It looked painful. "Where'd you get it?"

His eyes closed in sorrow and he gripped me tighter, "Vietnam. He came at me out of the jungle with a machete."

"You really…"

"Yes, I got drafted five years ago," his voice took on a hard tone. A humourless laugh cut through the night, "I had an athletic scholarship, could have gone to university, but I didn't know what I wanted to do. I went on a road trip, driving across the country, searching for something. Never did find it. Came home to a draft letter. It tore up my mom and my sister. My father couldn't look at me for a week. He'd done everything he could to get me away from the draft. He got drafted in the Second World War."

"So I ended up doing two years over there until I got cut down in the jungle. I got a really bad infection so they sent me home. I did a lot of things, saw a lot of things. Worked my way up to sergeant of the army of nothing. Got a few medals that mean nothing. I came home and got into the University of Illinois. Now I hang my tags in my car just like my dad because I can't stand it. I haven't cut my hair in three years, like it actually means something. Every summer I travel the country in my car because I'm looking for something still."

A tear leaked from my eye and landed on his chest. I kissed his cheek in comfort. "Did you find what you're searching for?"

His eyes landed on mine, "I don't know. Maybe."

Eric fished through his jeans, pulling out a joint and a lighter. He took the first hit before passing it to me. I paused.

He smiled. "This, this is harmless…Everything else…" his voice grew dark, "I've seen too many junkies." I humoured him and took a hit.

"My brother Claude went, enlisted because my dad wanted him to. Dad's a vet of World War II as well. He wanted my other brother, Jason, to go too, but Claude convinced him not to let Jason go. He was so…different after. I got a sister too, Claudine. She's married and in New York right now. I miss her. You?"

"Three siblings. All younger. My twin brothers, Mikael and Kristoffer and our runt, Pam," he said with a smile, a genuine one. I could feel his real affection for them.

"Runt?"

"All of us brothers and our dad are well over six feet tall. Our mother is close to six feet too. Pam's 5'3" and the youngest, the runt," he explained.

"You must all take care of her, smother her to pieces."

"As much as she allows. She's feisty."

"Now I feel weird, we're talking about your little sister and we're both naked." He laughed and it rumbled through his body. I savoured this feeling of total contentment. I didn't have much longer. I hugged him closer. I felt something stirring inside me, something to hold onto, something I could keep forever. I stomped it down and away.

Too soon we were getting dressed, putting away the blanket and the flames were out, the joint was smoked. We were headed back to the main road, back to Bon Temps, back from this little excursion from reality. It was an unhappy car ride.

I fingered his dog tags hanging off the mirror and took them off. Peeling off the tape, I ran my finger along the raised edges giving me his information, his name, his blood type, religion, all pointless things about a human being.

"E.K.H. Northman?"

His lip twitched, "Eric Kristian Hjalmar Northman. My family's Swedish. My grandfather came to America and changed the last name from Nordman to Northman. You?"

"Susannah Adele Marie Stackhouse. German on my dad's side and Cajun on my mother's. She calls it French. My dad is descended from some old Bavarian nobles, old money. Changed the spelling of the last name too from Stakhaus."

He laughed, "Names are pointless. We can't define anything anyway. Not really. We can only try."

"Yeah," I whispered. I hung the dog tags back on the mirror untaped. No more hiding.

* * *

I awoke Saturday morning with the full knowing that my one night of happiness was gone and that my life was closing in on me from all sides. When I came downstairs, I was informed by my mother that we would have guests over in the evening for dinner. My father's investors from New York, Dallas and Chicago were coming to see him and the rest of the investors in Bon Temps.

This was it- The end. Their setup was upon me.

I had to get out of the house. I drove and drove, but the tears wouldn't stop, mourning everything I would never have.

A red light on Main Street brought me out of my thoughts, but it wasn't welcome, for who should see my car but Eric. He approached me from behind, but I drove off before he could stop me.

His fading image in the rear view mirror tore at my soul.

* * *

What seemed like hundreds of guests descended on the house that night. Their high society eyes all weighing my worth. We were all in the parlour after dinner and I couldn't be surprised when Bill cornered me at last, got down on one knee and presented an obnoxious six karat diamond ring set in platinum and framed by dozens of diamond baguettes under my eyes.

"Susannah Adele Marie Stackhouse, will you marry me?"

My hand landed against my mouth, my heart clenched and I could not stop the tears from falling. I felt faint, but their eyes were all around me, watching, waiting. My mother and father glared at me.

I wished his hair was long and blond and his eyes were stormy blue.

"Yes." A sob escaped my mouth and his slid the ring on my finger, pushing me into a cell.

I was damned.

* * *

Sunday came oppressively hot, as if the very flames of hell had descended on Bon Temps. A proper southern girl like me went to church. I was mourning. I wore black, the collar tight on my neck and gloves on my hands. I could not look at the ring on my finger.

We had just been settled in our seats when my mother sent me back to the car. She needed a fan. I sighed, of course, she did. Searching the interior, I found no such fan. I was just at the trunk, about to pop it open when a voice behind me stole my thoughts and my body.

"I don't like being avoided," he said. And suddenly he was too close, pressed fully against my back, his lips at my ear, my neck.

"I can't do this," I whimpered. Every bone in my body wanted to be close to him. I couldn't stop replaying the things we did that night in my head over and over.

"I never pegged you for a liar." His voice was heavy.

"Eric," it came out like a choked sob.

"Tell me you don't think about me all the time like I think of you," His voice was scratchy, low, like my devil, "Tell me I'm not driving you crazy, like you're driving me mad. Tell me you don't want me like I want you." He punctuated this by rubbing his arousal against my ass.

My body betrayed me, I moaned.

It was all the invitation he needed, his hand slipped under the hem of my dress and up the inside of my thigh to my panties. His fingers breached under and rubbed against the slit he had claimed when he took my virginity, finding me wet. All aroused for him. Only him.

Before I could think my panties were torn and ripped off my body and the hot air of the day hit my wet pussy. The next thing I heard was a zipper, and then he was bracing me and himself on the trunk of my parents' car and his dick had reclaimed my womb.

"I can't stop thinking about you. I want you all the time," he growled into my ear.

"Fuck me," I whispered hoarsely and then he was thrusting into me hard, fast and rough. He slammed into my folds, hitting that spot he found all the time, driving me insane. There was nothing gentle about it. His fingers rubbed slow circles on my clit and he bit down on my neck to stop a yell from escaping his mouth. It would mark but I didn't care. I returned each of his thrusts vigorously with one of my own, as his free hand cupped my breast through the conservative dress.

My legs were shaking when I felt him release inside me. It triggered one of my own, a few moments of solace. He pulled out of me, readjusting my dress. I leaned up against his body and pulled his arms around me. We were both panting.

Brushing my hair over my neck, I told him, "I have to go."

I broke from his arms as I walked back to the church, never looking back and without my mother's stupid fan. I felt his seed leak down my thighs as I opened the church doors.

* * *

A good night's rest was eluding me, like it had since Saturday. I woke up on the twilight of Sunday and Monday knowing that someone else was in the room with me.

"Eric?"

He was slumped in a chair in front of my bed. His hands were running through his hair. Something must have happened. Something horrible. Everything in his body was bent, broken, desperate.

"What's wrong?" I asked him, sitting up in my bed.

His eyes affixed on mine and I saw unspeakable pain behind them, his eyes were glassy with unshed tears. He could hear the whispers of demons. He shook his head.

I went and took his hand, "Its okay. You can tell me."

"Sookie…Sookie, I need you tonight. Please." His voice was cracked, begging. He was so hurt, so beaten.

"Okay." And I let him come over and pull off my nightgown and my panties as I divested him of his clothes too and I kissed him and let him bury himself inside me because he was so wounded. Maybe I could take away some of the pain for him.

* * *

I woke up when the sky was still grey on Monday morning. Eric was still in my bed. He was still holding me tight. We were still naked. It was perfect. I wished I could have this every day of my life.

I lay with him until my clock radio was set off and the soft music played, causing him to stir. A lump rose in my throat and I cursed fate. Of course it had to be "Babe, I'm Gonna Leave You," by Led Zeppelin.

He pulled me closer until the sleep ran out of his body and then he sat up and I could see the haunted look in his face.

"…_Baby, I'm gonna leave you. I said, baby, you know I'm gonna leave you_."

I ran my hand down his shoulder. "What happened?" I asked, whispering softly. The last thing I wanted to do was alert the household to Eric, the man in my bed I was naked with.

"_Baby, baby, I don't wanna leave you. I ain't jokin', woman, I got to ramble." _

He didn't say anything for a while, deep in thought. "I have to go. I have to go home…to St. Paul." The words were like a sucker punch. I didn't want him to leave, but it wasn't possible. He had to go sooner or later and I was engaged now. I never thought myself to be a whore and here I was, engaged to one man while I slept with another.

"I _can hear it callin' me the way it used to. I can hear it callin' me back home_."

He continued, his eyes guilty and his voice sad and broken, "My sister, Pam. She was in a car accident, a real bad one. They don't know if the surgery will save her. She's in a coma."

"Oh my God," I shuddered. I pulled him into a tight hug.

"I need to see if she's okay. I don't know what I'd do if she went and I wasn't there. I want to fucking break that fucker's neck that hit her," he muttered into my hair as he embraced me tighter.

"I know, I know," and I was crying again and I couldn't stop. Our time had always needed to come to an end. We would only ever have that one night, no matter how much I wished it wasn't so.

He was wiping the tears from my eyes and giving me a sad little smile when he said, "Come with me."

I pushed off him, shocked, "What?"

He brushed the hair from my face with his hand, "I love you. Come with me to Minnesota." I could only find truth in his eyes and it was breaking my heart.

"I can't," I sobbed, my voice cracking, "I can't."

"…_I got to go away from this place. I've got to quit you…_"

He pulled me back into his arms and rubbed my back saying, "Sookie, what do you have here? There's nothing to keep you. Nothing to hold on to. No one in your family worth missing."

I pulled away from him, grabbing the ring on my nightstand. I couldn't bear to wear it more than I had to. I showed it to him, his face blanched. "I'm engaged, as of Saturday night. I'm engaged, Eric."

His fingers took my chin and tilted my head up to look into his face, "Do you love him?"

"What does it matter, Eric?" I cried, brokenly.

"Do you love him?" he repeated, firmly.

"No, no," I answered as the sobs returned, "I don't love him."

"When will you be married? When will I lose you?" he asked, his voice full of emotion.

"They're saying the winter," I said, shuddering to think it.

He then took me into his arms and soothed me until the tears subsided. He ran his fingers along my cheek, "Listen, I don't know when I'll be back. Come with me. I can spare until tonight. I gotta wrap things up in Bon Temps, work one more day to pay off Tray's shop. I'll come to you under the trees, where I dropped you off the first night we met, at midnight. I'll wait an hour and then I'll go."

"If you don't come I'll understand, but if you do, I promise I'll try to make you happy for the rest of my life. I'll probably never get you all this…but I've got a place in Chicago and a job part time, when I'm not in classes. I've even got money saved up from the military. It's not Harvard, but you could study Literature. You won't starve; I'll take care of you."

"You've got to go," I said, hearing the stirring downstairs.

He nodded and began pulling on his clothes. I pulled on my flowing white nightgown too.

When he was finished, he pulled me into a hungry kiss, burning through my soul, one that could be our last.

He touched every feature of my face, memorizing it. I did the same to his.

"I've got to go now. Think about it," he said, kissing my lips chastely.

Walking towards the window, he gave me one last look, "Good bye, my lover."

Then he was climbing out of my window and disappearing into the new day.

* * *

My head was completely torn when I left the house that morning. How could I make a choice? Was it even possible? I made a decision and there was no going back. My life would be changed forever either way.

I did the only thing I could think of, I saw my best friend, Amelia.

She held my hand and hugged me as I explained the events of the past couple days, listening raptly. When I was done, she only told me one thing, "Follow your heart."

What if my heart was going to St. Paul, Minnesota, across the goddamned country? What if I didn't know for sure what I felt? What if it didn't work out, then what would I have? What if I stayed here? What if, what if…It was tearing my soul apart and I had no solace.

I found myself driving around town that afternoon, looking at all the places in Bon Temps where I had grown up, basking in all the memories, the corner stop we Stackhouse children got candy at, the ice cream shop Jason took me to when I hit my first softball, the library Amelia and I spent our summer at looking at all the books on Europe, the diner where everyone ate, Merlotte's where I first got drunk and Claude had to punch a guy that was hitting on me, the shop where Claudine and I found my bridesmaid gown for her wedding, Tray's family's autoshop where Amelia took me to hide out from my parents. Could they keep me here? Was this place really worth it? Was this who I was?

I ended up driving up to the end of Main Street and turning off on the road that led up to the church, the church that I had gone to every Sunday for my entire life, where I had prayed, asked for forgiveness, looked for a salvation that never came. It was the same church that would call me a whore and a sinner for what I did with Eric.

Driving up to those doors, I finally knew what to do. I stopped the engine and stepped out of the goddamned blue Mustang with the white roof that my parents had gotten for me for my Sweet Sixteen. I walked around the car and ran up the steps where I first met him not one week ago. Pulling open the doors, I ran through the lobby and into the sanctuary, not stopping until I reached a box near the altar, the donations box.

Taking the ring from my finger, I tossed the stupid thing into the donations box. I had never felt lighter.

* * *

Sneaking out of my room through my window had never been so goddamned difficult. It was like I could feel the very hounds of hell on my trail at every turn. Every noise, every rustle was a demon that would pull me back into that hell house. My body was shaking, even though I wore a coat. It was chilly that night. I looked into the heavens and prayed no one would see me.

I only packed a single bag. There wasn't much worth bringing along. There wasn't much I even liked. They were necessities, nothing more.

I had gone to the reverend and asked to borrow some paper, a pen and an envelope. I wrote Amelia a letter and put it in her mail box. I couldn't tell her today. She was a horrible liar and had vowed to go to Monroe with Tray, lest she spill anything.

Finally making it over the wrought iron fence, I sprang to my feet and ran, I ran as fast as I could with the wind running through my hair as if flames were flickering at my heels. When I saw the Camaro I could have cried, I settled for leaping into his arms when he ran out of the car to meet me. He held me close and buried his face in my hair, inhaling my scent, as if he couldn't believe I was real. I couldn't believe he was really here.

Then he kissed me with all the promise of a new life and new hope, a smile at his lips and a laugh at his throat. "You're real, you're here," he said reverently.

"I love you, you idiot! Of course, I am," I exclaimed, the words slipping out before I could stop them, but I meant them, just as he had.

He just smiled, boarding my things into his car. Rene Lenier's liberated wolfhound barked me a greeting from the backseat. I raised an eyebrow.

"He won't leave me either," he said, teasingly. I grinned and pushed him towards the driver's seat.

I held his hand the entire way as we crossed into Arkansas. I held his hand as the sun rose to a new day, one week after I'd met him, marking my new life. A life that was mine. Mine alone.

* * *

Three years later I was in Chicago, crossing the street to enter the club Eric owned with his sister, Pam. It was called Valkyrie. Pam had awakened, survived and after healing was right as rain and just as feisty as Eric had once told me. She was also my sister in so many ways. She helped me out when I was studying. I was only about a year away from graduating with a bachelor of arts in Literature.

Amelia had decided to come up after she graduated to open an art gallery and work in her own studio. Tray came with her too. He was a mechanical engineer, he had always loved working with cars and Chicago had infinitely more opportunities than Bon Temps. They had told me Bill married Selah Pumphrey not long after I left town for good. I kept in contact with all my siblings. I saw Claudine every now and then when she visited me or I visited her.

I noticed a man and a woman in clothes dripping with wealth exit a flashy limousine across the street, making me stop. I froze. They were my parents, Corbett and Genevieve Stackhouse. Their eyes landed on my form and took me in, the long flowing halter dress with the floral print that showed off my ample cleavage and shoulders, the wreath of violets I wore on my head made with flowers grown in our garden that accentuated my long loose, wavy blonde hair, the nearly two and a half year old boy with my wavy hair and his stormy eyes and strong jaw being carried in my arms and my belly which was just beginning to show again.

They looked at me with scorn in their eyes, muttering something about hippies and drugs.

But they did not recognize me when I walked passed them and I could only smile and laugh.

My laugh stirred him from some paperwork he was working on. He sat at a table on the floor of the club as I walked in the door. Thor the wolfhound barked a greeting at his feet.

Eric smiled at me and took our son into his arms, kissing my lips softly, running a hand along my stomach and the growing bump, "What's so funny?"

"I met my past and it didn't recognize me."

* * *

Okay, so holy crap, this was really an exercise on me being succinct, because I have a 10,000 word limit lol. I can't believe I actually did it. I'm at 9992 words without editing. You won't believe how many times I was checking my word count. Some other things that inspired me? The episode Independence Day from Roswell, that church Slash guitar solo outside of in the November Rain music video, the image of that church, Friday Night Lights, Tim Riggins and Lyla Garrity, Sawyer and Kate from Lost, Eric and Sookie's first meeting on True Blood. Maybe that movie Titanic.

My beta, EBCM noted that the proposal scene and the one where Sookie drove away from Eric were quick, like flashes, saying that, "I can see it cinematically play out giving the message that her life in Bon Temps and those moments are a blur and her time with Eric is the real thing." It was kinda funny that it ended up like that, but it was definitely me saying, 'Okay, what's important?' So they ended up like little vignettes. Word count definitely had something to do with it, but I really liked the way it played out. I mean, if word count wasn't an issue, Amelia would actually have dialogue lol.

"Babe, I'm Gonna Leave You" is my favourite vocal performance by Robert Plant ever. I wanted a third song. When this song came to me, I knew it would be perfect for the bedroom scene. The last thing that inspired Eric was the facemelting guitar solos. I was like, this is Eric strutting out. Call me anal retentive, but I wanted three songs and I wanted three songs all released within a year of July 1969 lol. I remembered hearing Slash do "Voodoo Child" on either the UYI Tokyo DVDs or on YouTube and also Slash and Zakk Wylde doing a cover at something for Gibson back in the early 90s that was amazing. So I found a live version of the Jimi Hendrix version and I was like, Eric song! That song was actually the hardest for me to find, but when I found it, I knew it was perfect. Go watch Zakk and Slash solo. It's godly. Also checkout the 'Voodoo Chile' video from Atlanta with Jimi, it's awesome. The song was renamed after it was published…so it's either 'Voodoo Chile' or 'Voodoo Child'. The song I'm talking about is called "Voodoo Child (Slight Return)".

I have to say I do actually have this whole world mapped out in my head. I mean, I kinda wanna write the road trip, Eric's family meeting Sookie, I mean isn't that just awesomely awkward? Hi! I brought home a girl I've known for less than a week! Sookie meeting Pam, Sookie discovering she's pregnant etc…but we'll see. I just know that Pam would tell Eric, "Free love, not free idiocy, you moron!" when she finds out. Oh, and whack him upside the head.

As always, I would love to hear your feedback! Hit me up with a line. If you can't send me a review, because the site is malfunctioning, I've decided to open up a post on my site to help you out and all authors as well. Go to http://bloodbonds(dot)wordpress(dot)com/2009/08/11/fanfiction-net-reviews/

~simba_317


	2. After the Fall

**Disclaimer:** I'll settle for owning human Eric! Pwease?

**Author's Notes:** Before I begin, I really have to tell you all what I don't intend to do…I don't intend to go into minutia about Eric and Sookie's lives in this universe indefinitely. The motif from the oneshot…how fleeting and temporal everything is lends itself to the snapshot feel. I'll be giving you guys probably a series of oneshots/chapters dealing with their lives and that's what I'm really intending with this story. A whole bunch of stand alones. I really do think where I ended my last one shot, with Sookie encountering her parents, is really the end of the story. I feel like I want to make each oneshot episodic...serialized, but episodic with a beginning, middle and an end in and of itself.

This next segment is probably going to be more serialized, in dealing with the aftermath of their romance, but after they sort of settle, I have a really awesome oneshot planned which will really sort of conclude things.

I felt kinda bad writing this fic…because I was distracted by the opening of SkarsgardNews! Hehehe. And activating the Overnight Grammar Fairy for Lil…there was an uploading oopsie…Bad grammar, especially from people I know, gives me the urge to correct, even when I don't have time! Oh and I got me a domain name for Blood Bonds. You can now find us at bloodbondsblog(dot)com! Look for news on Friday!

Aside from that, I'm super busy...but exams are around the corner and time should be coming into my hands soon!

I've been holding onto this since Friday because of US Turkey Day lol, but I resolve to get a fic out a month...so...

**AFTER THE FALL**

* * *

_Dear Corbett and Genevieve Stackhouse,_

_God, I can't even bare to call you two 'father' and 'mother'. That's what you are to me, what you're supposed to be to me. Only, the two of you have been nothing more than business managers, waiting to sell my life to the highest bidder like I was some commodity, an animal, a cow, not a daughter or a human being. _

_All my life I've done what was expected of me. I've played your games, did those tricks that pleased you. I'm done, I'm through now. I want a life that is mine and mine alone. I've been offered a chance and I'm taking it. I'm going to be who I want to be. _

_By the time you get this letter, I'll be long gone. I'm not coming back. I won't miss you two. You won't really miss me either. You'll miss having an expensive object and some of your reputation, I'm sure, but not me. Never Sookie. Don't bother looking for me. _

_Goodbye. May your future endeavours bring you joy, _

_Sookie_

* * *

**July 7****th****, 1969**

One week from my nineteenth birthday and my life could not be more changed. Instead of some ridiculous church appropriate clothing, strangling my throat, I was free. Free from all clothes, in fact. At the moment anyway.

We'd driven as long as we could bear the darkened hours, hurtling me further away from my former cage. The darkness had hid us from view. We were two thieves in the night, making off with the Crown Jewels. Sultry Blues tunes had been cranked out from the radio as the miles sped by beneath us, miles of roads I had never traversed before. He had left all the windows open and the wind tussled our hair as he made me laugh. With freedom echoing all through my soul, I laughed until my stomach hurt and smiled until my cheeks were sore.

At dawn, Eric decided it was time for one of his excursions. When he stopped at an abandoned road, hidden from view, we kicked out our travelling companion. I think the dog was sleeping when we made love in his Camaro, right until the sun finally arched across the sky in a pink, red and gold celebration. It's selfish, but I thought it might be just for us, our sunrise. In the heat of the day, we somehow slept.

Only sunlight never hides, it reveals and it was no longer dark.

When I woke up, it was midday and I was still tangled up on top of him, naked. He had parked in the shade, so it wasn't unbearable. Still, a sheen of sweat clung to our bodies.

"Good afternoon," I said, watching the fluttering of his eyelashes as he stirred, listening to the tinkling of his dog tags.

At last those storming blue eyes of his were opened. He looked at me as if he had seen a dream, one that could not possibly be real.

"Lover," he greeted softly, as he traced his fingertips lightly over my face, pressing reverent kisses to my face.

"What time is it?" he wondered after a spell.

"Just after one in the afternoon," I answered, peering at the clock in the dash.

"Shit!" he cursed, and pain flared in eyes, "I've got to go home."

I should've known better than to think that the world wouldn't touch us.

* * *

_All my life I've been waiting for something. _

_I waited to use the potty. I waited for my siblings to come into the world. I waited to understand life's mysteries. I waited in the locker room with the crowd thundering just outside while the coach yelled his rhetoric to us like a priest. I waited with fear of the unknown. I waited for the next moment, the next play, the next pass, the next run, the next rush. I waited for an answer to come as I sat in my cap and gown, finding none. I waited until it was too late. _

_I waited with the night all around me in the impossible heat. I waited in a death trap. I waited with nothing but fear as my constant. I waited for the next attack. I waited for the next enemy, the next battle, the next Reaper with no relief. I waited like it was a game. I waited like it didn't matter. I waited like I could believe in something. I waited because I was ordered to. I waited because it was all I could do. I waited and watched as the earth was painted carelessly with blood, with life, so needless, so destructive. I waited for my turn. I waited for sweet relief. I waited for death. _

_I waited in pain. I waited in agony. I waited in drugged up indifference. I waited with impatience. I waited as an invalid in a hospital, feeling like a failure. I waited when all I really wanted to do was go back to the killing fields because there was someone's kid there. I waited, thinking I was an idiot. I waited and I was selfish. I waited and I wanted to go home. _

_I was waiting, I was searching every year, always wanting, always needing, never coming to fruition. I'm waiting to be fulfilled. _

_And now I'm waiting again and I'm hoping for something that might never come. I'm waiting in this damn car, on another damn road trip, wanting this one to be different, needing this one to be different. I have nothing but a stray and the radio for company, nothing but the wind that's taunting on another too hot night and every minute feels like forever, every moment feels a little more like defeat. _

_I'm waiting to be crushed. I'm waiting to be ruined. _

_I'm waiting for hope. I'm waiting for something to matter. _

_I'm waiting to try. Just to try. _

* * *

Silence is a funny thing.

It's dead quiet, but it's louder than even the most explosive of spring thunderstorms.

Peace, I could not find it. Instead, Doubt was Prometheus' liver. The eagle came back every morning and there was that regrown liver, ready to be pecked and eaten, yet again. My doubt could not be swayed for a thousand thoughts passed through his eyes, but still the silence remained, refusing to give voice to his troubles. I could not know what lay behind those depths without him revealing them to me.

I wish I could pull the thoughts from his mind, but I knew him so little. What was this I felt? Was it a lie, an infatuation?

No, the miles poured on in silence. The afternoon sun lingered far too long, her unkind rays were exposing too much, more than I would have liked. I had to have left for something, something better, but it was a dangerous gamble and I was low on faith.

The liberated dog was my only comfort in those moments, his face resting on my shoulder from where he sat in the backseat.

"You know, he needs a name," I said as the highway stretched onwards unrelentingly. Anything to kill this silence.

"He doesn't have one already?" he asked at last.

"Dog or Mutt is hardly appropriate," I argued, a frown creasing my mouth.

Eric's lip quirked, "Names are pointless, you know that." Relief rose through me for a little while as the tension slacked.

"For defining things, sure, but this guy," I rubbed the dog's head, "needs a proper name."

Looking into the beast's face, I frowned as Eric chuckled slightly. "Bentley?" I suggested.

"A stuffy old rich person's car? Really?" His eyebrow quirked.

"It's ironic," I argued.

"Hi, Rex, you feel like some Blues?" Eric asked as he turned the dial on the radio, giving me a wink.

"Creative, you're a step up from Pooch!" I rolled my eyes.

"I'm brilliant, you know it," he replied cheekily.

"You're arrogant, I know it," I mocked.

"You love me," he whispered softly.

My breath hitched a little and I paused, not knowing what was on his mind. It was quiet, "I love you." _Don't break me._

* * *

_Was it luck or a curse that brought me to Bon Temps? Maybe it was Fate. I don't know._

_What I do know is that my car, which had never failed me, failed in front of a church. Irony? Hell yeah. Thank you, God. Your sense of humour is hilarious towards unbelievers and sinners. No, I'm not going to start praying and going to Mass, thank you very much. For God doesn't exist in jungles, in death, in pain, in despair, in war. No, He exists to a bunch of perfect people from perfect families, who could never want or hurt. He exists to assuage their guilt and allow them to fuck everyone else over, make us go to war and kill us all for their whims. _

_I was going to say 'Fuck you,' and start that car without an ounce of His 'help'. _

_The only problem? I was apparently up shit creek without a paddle. That Camaro was smoking more than a joint, angry and hot as a blacksmith shop and would not be tamed any time soon. _

_Turning my head to the heavens, I laid another curse to a non-existent god. _

…_Only for my eyes to meet a brilliant creature standing completely out of place in His house of worship. A creature begging to be corrupted and set free. A creature I could not resist. She was innocence and rebellion all rolled into one, with the sweet air of the pure and the body of unadulterated sin. The angel among a flock of false believers and hypocritical sinners, she called to me. Something about the look in her eyes called to me. _

'_**Thanks for the gift, God**__,' I thought, sarcastically. _

_I wanted and I would take…in a very unchristian way. _

* * *

_Dear Amelia,_

_I've come to a decision and since you're finding this in your mailbox, you already know what it means. I've left with him. It feels strange yet wonderful to say it. Exciting. I'm going to follow that road wherever it may take us. It's a fearful thing, embarking on this journey. Everything that lies beyond is unknown. It's dangerous, but it's worth a chance. You're right. I would regret it forever if I didn't go with him. This is one chance that must be taken. _

_I'm in love and I'll let Fate take her course and see what happens. I'm done with being unfulfilled and unhappy and I'm taking this into my own hands, because being with him is where I need to be. I've never been more certain of anything in my life. _

_You've always been my closest friend, my confidante and no matter what distance lies between us, I'll always find a way into your life and I'm sure, you into mine. _

_You'll be haring from me soon. Much love,_

_Sookie_

* * *

"Amelia, it's Sookie," I said into the plastic receiver of the phone. It was warm from the heat of the day.

"I figured as much," she returned saucily, "I thought you'd call me earlier! Honey, it's 3pm!"

"Sorry," I rolled my eyes. Knowing Amelia, she wanted all the juicy details. "We've just stopped to eat. It's the first I've seen a pay phone."

"Late morning?" she teased.

"Amelia!" I admonished.

"I knew it!" she exclaimed, delighted.

"Look, just tell me what's going on," I said, trying to focus her.

"Would it make you feel better if I asked you if you're still alright?" she snarked.

"Amelia," I sighed.

"Fine, spoil sport," she accused, "I went over at 11. Your folks were freaking! The cops were all over your house, which was absolutely wonderful. I gave them your letter. Oh my God, Sookie! Their faces! It was so perfect. They thought you'd been abducted, that Sweet, Pure Susannah would NEVER do such a thing! I let them cling to that idea for awhile until I showed them my letter-"

"I can't believe you did that!" I couldn't believe that girl sometimes.

"They've hated me all my life! Revenge is sweet," she explained proudly, "Anyway, the police had no other choice but to call off the search until more evidence could be provided. Of course, the story spread like wildfire. It's the biggest scandal since Hoyt Fortenberry ran off with Jessica Hamby, only better! Mrs. Compton was all, 'My son is not marrying a whore!' Arlene Fowler totally thinks you've been abducted for random money! The town is torn in two over the whole thing."

"Oh God…"

"Well, it was until Andy Bellefleur came forward and explained that you had most definitely run off from your own volition because he saw the two of you in front of the church during Mass. He made very suggestive and rude hand gestures, I must say. Oh, and apparently you wanted it…and badly."

"Dammit, they believed the town drunk!?" I squeaked, completely humiliated.

"Isn't that the point that they did? All the cops are off your back. Your parents' cash cow is damaged goods. The engagement is officially broken. By the way, Father Clancy refuses to return the ring...And you're over 18, so your parents can't do anything. Besides, you ran off with the hippie vagabond, what were they supposed to think?"

I groaned. The speeding trucks whipping down the highway did nothing to cool my flaming cheeks. Amelia snickered at my response.

"I always tell you to do what I would, but damn girl!" she squealed, "The church during Mass!?"

"…It's not like we were inside it…" I muttered.

Amelia just cackled at my expense.

Suddenly, a realization hit me with the force of an atomic bomb, "I can't go home…I can't go home. They know, Amelia! They know." I felt the hysteria of sheer panic bubble up in my throat, my body shaking.

_What had I done? What could I do? _

I had nothing else to turn to, only Eric. He was my egg in my one basket. Where was my faith now?

"Sweetie, breathe, breathe!" Amelia shouted over the line.

I slid to the bottom of the telephone booth, shaking. It was another cage constricting me.

Tears began to stream down my eyes as I clutched that phone desperately.

"Are you okay?" Amelia's voice crackled.

"Yeah…fine," I replied, my voice pathetically breathy.

"Sookie, what happened?" Amelia asked over the line, "Did Eric do something to you?"

"No…" I hated how I was sobbing. Sobbing for that piece of shit that was my life.

"Sookie…"

"He's distant, Amelia. He won't talk to me. This is the first day! The first goddamned day! Is this what it's supposed to be like for the rest of them? Is he just going to keep ignoring me? Am I just one big mistake to him? Some stray he picked up that he's gonna toss aside when he's done? 'Cause if he is…I can't even go back. I gambled that away," I babbled hysterically.

"Oh, sweetie," Amelia sighed.

"I'm so stupid. I'm an idiot, thinking that I'd be happy, that we'd be happy, that we'd always be. I got one night out of the deal. We were happy for one night. That counts, right? I thought everything was gonna be okay…but then, now…" Fear was eating me up alive and my voice was cracking. I hated being so weak.

"Sookie, you're not stupid," Amelia assured, "I saw the way he looked at you that night in the bar, how you glanced back at him…I never would have left you there if I didn't think he had feelings for you or if I didn't think he was a good person."

"You left me there on purpose!" I exclaimed, shocked that her purpose had been to hook us up.

"It paid off, didn't it?" Amelia giggled.

I felt a tirade coming on. The good thing about rage is that it doesn't make you feel helpless and the frailty melts away.

"Look, sweetie," Amelia started, attempting to belay my wrath, she knew me well, "the way Eric's eyes changed when he saw you in that sundress on your first date, that look on his face, it's rare. They only look at you like that when they're falling in love with you. You got it, Sookie. He loves you. I know he does."

"Oh, Ames, how can you be so sure?" I questioned desperately.

"It's a little faith and a lot of trust," she replied, "And I don't think his distance is about you."

"Really?" I doubted.

"Yes, he feels guilty. You told me he had to leave in a hurry because his sister, who he is very close to, was in a bad car accident and is now fighting for her life and in a coma. He feels guilty because he's happy while his sister is suffering," she explained.

"I'm such an idiot," I repeated, running my hand over my face and hair, "I can't believe I didn't think of this. I'm a selfish, spoiled brat."

"Don't be so hard on yourself, honey," Amelia soothed.

"How can we ever work, Amelia?" I cried in frustration, "I'm tainted. I don't belong there with his family! It's going to be this horrible thing, showing up with some random runaway you're in an illicit affair with, practically at your sister's death bed. Who does that? I'm going to be nothing more than a big scandal, disrespecting their grief!"

"Sookie, it was never gonna be easy, but it's about what you wanted. You chose this life, this path. You've gotta fight for it. What matters is that he loves you and you love him. You'll work it out, but it's gonna take work," Amelia said.

"How do I know it's worth it?" I demanded forlornly.

"Would you rather be without him?" she asked bluntly.

"No," I replied immediately. The thought killed me.

"Then what are you doing, talking to me on the phone? Get your ass in there and talk to him," Amelia ordered.

I sighed, "I don't know."

* * *

_So God does have a sense of humour and he got the last laugh. The fucker._

_I can't get her off my mind. Every waking moment is haunted by her face, her laugh, her smile. _

_She makes me yearn and I haven't felt that in a long time. _

_The girl intrigued me from the moment I saw her perched up against the stone steps of that sacrilegious monstrosity of a church. Something was lurking beneath the surface drew me to her. In that first moment, I felt the need to mock, to tease…Okay, be an asshole and I didn't quite know why. I can walk away from those Bible thumping churchgoers, no problem, but she made me stop with the insatiable need to make my presence known to her. _

_Her fire, her passion, I loved it, so when her fight was extinguished in that bar, I found myself making a peace offering. I don't do truces. I don't give a fuck if people hate me. What the fuck? I found myself wanting to make her feel better and I don't do that, ever. The last time I felt the urge to do that was for Alcide Herveaux when he got his Dear John Letter from his bitch of a girlfriend, Debbie Pelt. That man was definitely better off without her. Of course, the only exception is for Pam. _

_So why did I want to see her spark? _

_And then I got a real spark from that kiss. _

_I can't lie and say I didn't want her. I did. I wanted her a lot. She was stunning, the face of an angel on a sinfully irresistible body, all ripe curves screaming to be harvested. But it was her damned feistiness that hooked me, that lured me in, the venom in her tongue, the wrath in her eyes and the rebellion in her stance against me. She was Mother Nature, a force to be reckoned with, a storm. Elemental, violent, beautiful. Oh, I desired her even more then. _

_She sparked me like a live wire. She sparked me alive. She was a defibrillator and I had been walking dead until she breathed life into me in that kiss. Her electricity flowed through my circuit and we became something new, something connected and complex, lighting that stupid bulb from Physics class. The shock pierced my heart like adrenalin and there it beat again. I was a junkie, I was addicted. _

_Dammit, I felt something. For the first time in forever, I felt something. I felt something I wanted to keep. _

_And God was rolling on the floor, laughing hysterically, his breathes coming up short. He was laughing at me. _

_He was laughing because I wanted to feel that again, I needed to. _

_I was in deep shit. _

_I was amazed, completely taken aback and made desperately aware of all that as I saw her just kissed face. _

_Is she what I've been searching for all these years? Is she it? _

_I needed that answer. I was going to catch it. _

_She was a dove in a cage and I was taking her out. I wanted her to fly. I wanted her to taste the freedom of the wind beneath her wings. She wasn't meant for a cage, she was meant to be wild. She was Mother Nature, after all. _

_I begged, I grovelled. Well, as much as I could. I don't beg and I don't grovel, but I did it for her. I needed to take her out. I needed her with me. _

_And there she is in front of me, finally being marched out by her friend Amelia like it's her damned wedding in a sinfully delicious dress that defined everything she was to me, my angelic little demon in white and red. Delectable, untainted, she was a vision. She's even blushing at me. The colour lights up her cheeks, flushes against her chest, setting off her breasts. Those breasts! Her eyes are shy, coy, she's a little scared. I want to protect her. Innocent, but not at the same time, I love her impossibilities._

_I wanted something for the first time in a long time. I wanted her to be mine. I wanted to claim her. I wanted her to desire me like the aching in my soul. I wanted her to need me the way I needed her to animate my dead life, breathe me into existence. I didn't want to be in the dark anymore and she was the light. _

_Shut the fuck up and stop laughing at me, God. _

* * *

By the time I stepped back into that diner, the food was out and my eyes were red. There was nothing I could do about it. I walked up to our table and he was waiting for me.

I heard an old Elvis tune crooning from the jukebox in the corner, mocking me, _"Wise men say only fools rush in. But I can't help falling in love with you..."_

He was sitting there, watching me intently, completely stoic, solitary and sedate.

I ducked my face towards my shoulder, not wanting anyone to see a break in my armour. It's unacceptable. They didn't notice, but I knew that Eric did immediately. Everyone else was distracted by my leg exposing purple shift dress. It was always the same. Distracting attention from prying eyes was easy when all they saw was beauty, not what was underneath. It was either that, or they were all caught in their own lives and their own world, cooling off on a hot day, coming down for a snack or just enjoying the ambience and company around them. I wished I could be like that.

But I wasn't.

Eric penetrated me without having to make an effort, even from across the room. He just knew. The question was asked from his eyes and held back from his tongue. I wanted him to be behind my defences, the one on the inside, to be able to trust him with my weaknesses, but it seemed more difficult to do than the day before.

"_Shall I stay? Would it be a sin, if I can't help falling in love with you..."_

"What's the extra burger for?" I deflected. I had sent Eric in to order and get a seat while I talked to Amelia on the phone beside the highway.

"Him," he humoured me, knowing when to leave things alone, by gesturing with his head towards the Camaro where the dog was looking back at us pitifully from the rear window, "He won't stop staring at me."

I couldn't help but snicker.

Now Eric may have known when to humour me, but that's not to say he wasn't persistent. As I slid into the red vinyl booth across from him, he said with concern in his eyes, "You okay?"

His large hand crossed the distance between us and his fingers stroked my cheek before coming to my chin, wanting me to look him in the eye. His touch was fire, blazing through my body. For the moment, it was like his despondency towards me wasn't there and I wanted the feeling to last, but knowing it wouldn't. Whatever had kept him from me still lurked beneath the surface.

"_Like a river flows surely to the sea, Darling, so it goes, some things are meant to be..."_

Right now though, he saw the tear tracks and the redness on my face, worrying.

"Yeah, I'm okay," I whispered.

"The evidence of tears is all over your face, lover. You're not okay," he said softly.

I closed my eyes. Why did he make this so hard? I couldn't talk about this right now.

He'd given me the opening to grasp, to take, but I didn't. We could talk, we could mend the gap, but I was a coward.

His touch infiltrated me, so I took my hands and clasped them in his, taking those tempting hands of his away from my face. They were still warm, soft but worked, allowing the action, even tightening against my touch.

"Not right now, sweetie," I begged, "I don't think I can handle it. I just want to get some food in me right now."

A protest rose in his eyes that wouldn't be ignored, threatening to spill into his voice.

"I'll tell you later, I promise," I swore.

His eyebrow rose, but the moment passed. He passed me my plate of food, a cheeseburger with bacon and barbeque sauce, fries and some onion rings.

While he leaned over the table to kiss my forehead, I cringed, scowling at the sight of his matching plate. Eric merely grinned over his plate as he settled into his booth.

His hamburger monstrosity distracted me from a rather disappointed red haired waitress he waved over.

"What is it that you need?" she asked, slightly pitifully.

"An ice cream float for my girl. Coke and chocolate, please," he ordered.

I frowned, confused at Eric's actions as the girl walked away. She'd probably spit in it out of spite. I had noticed Eric's appearance, after all. I ascertained she did as well.

He patted my cheek with a smirk, "You need an ice cream float."

I merely shook my head and watched, disgusted, as he began to scarf down about a pound of beef stuffed onto his fully loaded double-decker cheeseburger with a side of chilli cheese fries and onion rings. Eric took great pleasure in my disdain watching him eat.

Seeing him put away that much food could have put me off eating, but I was hungry, so after he encouraged me to eat for a few moments, I practically inhaled my food.

By the time our waitress set down that float, I realized something.

Eric called me his girl.

And as I sipped down the drink, I thought that maybe things will be okay. Maybe I meant as much to him as he did to me.

"_Take my hand, take my whole life too. For I can't help falling in love with you." _

"Grey."

"What?" I asked puzzled, through a bite of French fry.

Eric once again tilted his head to the dog.

"No," I replied resolutely, "It's sickeningly unimaginative."

"Grayson," Eric said proudly.

"Congratulations, you can modify a word!"

"Stray."

I simply glared at him.

"What would you suggest, then?" he asked, annoyed.

"Ripper?"

Eric scoffed, "He's about as vicious as a lop-eared bunny."

"Hitch-hiker."

"Doesn't particularly roll off the tongue…"

"That's reserved for chilli, apparently," I observed as a bit of chilli tumbled from his mouth.

"Those crumbs on your mouth are especially lovely," he teased, causing me to frantically wipe my lips.

Eric chuckled. "He needs something distinguished."

"Freeman," I suggest.

"You can combine words and make puns! Now who's uncreative," Eric accused.

"Eat your food."

"Your ice cream is melting."

As I tasted the chocolate grudgingly, I had to admit that it was the perfect compliment to the salty and smoky flavours of the food.

"Loki," Eric proposed after a pause.

"Oh, I get it."

"What?" Eric asked.

"You shun anything Christian," I realized.

Eric shrugged, unapologetic.

I looked into the earnest face of the dog, watching us eat with noted interest, trying to fit the name, "That dog is not a trickster."

"You got a better suggestion?"

"Odin?"

"I don't look at that dog and see kingly," Eric replied.

"Fine. Your turn."

"Thor," Eric said at last, "He's strong, a survivor, proud."

"Thor," I said, tasting it.

"You just want something Nordic," I teased.

"It's not like I picked Ingmar!"

"Thank God for that!"

"There is something exotic about Ingmar…"

"Don't you even start!" I warned.

That roadside dinner was a nice respite. Only respites never last very wrong.

* * *

_She ignores me again and I can't ignore her._

_I can still feel her, feel her writing body under mine, feel all those voluptuous curves, her limbs clinging to me, feel her surrounding me as I'm buried inside her, so hot and wet. I can still taste her, taste her sweetness, her innocence, the salt in her sweat. I can still hear her, hear her pleasure, her gasps and cries as she begs and needs me too. I can still smell her, smell her scent, her flavour, our sex, our bodies. _

_I can still see her eyes on me and how much I need her to look at me like that. _

_It's primal and spiritual, the closest to heaven that I'll ever be. I've given more of myself to her. _

_She's mine and I claim her. _

_I'm not good. I never claimed to be. _

_I want, I need. She consumes me like a flame and my entire being is on fire, burning for her. She burns through me brighter than the ghostly vestiges of the stars in the sky and she sees me. She sees me. She ignites my soul and suddenly I spark and burst, exploding. She smoulders through my mind, always alive, eternal._

_And I fear. _

_I fear the time the fire is snuffed. _

* * *

Thor took well to his new name.

We didn't take well to the distances.

We couldn't decide over a goddamned radio station. It was a stupid fucking fight, but it left me shaken and more doubtful than ever with the pounding silence now the only thing between us.

We were dancing like we were afraid to step on each other's toes. Together, but not. Embracing, but apart. His lead was a little too fast. I moved a little too slow…And the music, oh the music, it wasn't helping at all. Everything was out of synch.

The sun was being swallowed whole in the sky, a rapid chase it had been giving fleeing from the predatory night. The sun lost.

For as long as the sun was being stalked, Eric had been speeding down the highway like a madman. Other cars flicked by in blurs, passed around in an intricate series of dodges and near accidents. I could barely feel my hands anymore from gripping the seat so tightly.

"Eric!" I shrieked at last, once he finished swerving around an Impala in the fading light.

He was a man possessed. Here, but not. I could practically see the hellhounds on his trail and the flames licking his heels. His eyes were wild.

"You need to slow down!" I shouted.

Nothing, he kept breaking the speed limit. His dog tags clanked against each other from the rear view mirror like a death knoll.

In the back, Thor had begun to whimper. He might be a bit carsick. _Great. I get to deal with a speeding psychopath and the possibility of dog puke_.

Grabbing his shoulder, I squeezed as hard as I could to get his attention, watching his white knuckles gripping the steering wheel.

"Eric!" I yelled. "Slow down!"

His body shook violently for a moment as my words finally sunk into him, snapping out of whatever state of mind he had been in. Breaths came out from his lungs in ragged puffs. His eyes were slightly disorientated.

I stroked his arm, "Breathe. Calm down. You're here. You're here," I soothed.

When his eyes snapped to find mine briefly, they were tormented with old pains and old fears, the look of paranoia clouded them. His eyes were painful to look into, to know the horror he had seen reflected back into me. But the car slowed.

I had seen it before. Claude had been a basket case for awhile after coming home. It still happened to him sometimes.

"I'm sorry," he whispered so quietly I strained to hear him, "I'm sorry."

His eyes were a tempest of regret, self-loathing, shame and guilt.

Taking one of his hands in mine for comfort, I replied, "I understand."

His face turned back to me, words about to erupt, but I pressed my fingers to his lips, silencing him.

"Eyes to the road." He did what I said and I kissed his cheek.

"It's okay," I said as I stroked his hand with my thumb, knowing he needed the root to reality.

We had travelled for a mile or so before his voice broke the silence, "There was a guy in my platoon, Charles Twinning. Everybody liked Charlie. He just had that quality about him where you couldn't help but like him. We were ambushed and a firefight broke out. Somewhere in the retreat, we lost Charlie. It was only when we rendezvoused that we realized he was missing. None of us wanted to leave him behind, so we raced back into the jungle. All the while the enemy tracked us. We weren't supposed to go back, but we did anyway, because it was Charlie and command wasn't around to stop us. It was too close to dark and the light was running out. By the time we found Charlie, he was bleeding out, but still alive. Only the enemy trapped us and killed him before we could get to him. There wasn't much of him left."

Suddenly, I understood his desperation to get back to Pam and the horrible flashbacks he must be having. His face was unmoved, his jaw set as he watched the road, but I could sense the torment underneath. I could see the anguish in his eyes. I clasped his hand tighter.

I could feel my throat close and a few stray tears fall from my eyes that could not fall from his.

"You're a good man. You tried. That's all you could do," I said softly. No matter his attitude or his demeanour, I knew deep down, where it counted, his heart was true, a little battered, war worn and beaten, but true. Someone like him with his loyalty and commitment, it was rare.

A sardonic laugh escaped his mouth, "He still died. It didn't amount to anything."

"How many others would have left him? He died knowing he wasn't abandoned," I reminded.

"I can't be late, Sookie," he said softly.

"I know, but you'll be no good to Pam like this, Eric, if you're hurt, or worse," I told him, tucking my head into his shoulder.

"We could use some more gas," he suggested.

"That sounds good."

Eric kissed the top of my head from beside his shoulder, "Thank you. I needed you."

"Thank you for telling me. I know it wasn't easy," I replied.

"No, but I thought you'd understand. I feel like I can trust you," he confessed.

His lip quirked slightly, "That hasn't happened in awhile." I knew that to be a severe understatement.

* * *

_She's engaged to another man, there's a ring big enough to buy a country on her finger and it's breaking my heart. _

_You're supposed to be with me. You belong with me. You belong to be free. Don't you get it?_

_She tastes like sunshine, feels like spring, smells like Heaven, sounds like music and looks like home. That's supposed to be mine, right? _

_This time, I'm truly begging and grovelling. _

_**I love you. Dammit, I love you. **_

_Come back to me. _

_If you don't, all the wounds you healed will break open and bleed out. You'll kill me. _

_Everything's so fucked up. First Pam, now this…_

_Responsibility calls to me and I was always the responsible one. It's the duty of being the oldest brother. _

_My baby sister, dammit. She's my baby sister. There it goes again, all the shit in my life. No, it was never fair for Eric Northman. My heart is being pulled and stretched until it breaks. _

_God hates me, but I can't bring myself to care about that or do anything about it. __**You won't catch me at your house, Sweetheart. **_

_God, just this one thing? _

_I'm still not going to church and shit, I'm still sinning and I'm still unrepentant. _

_Just, let me have this one thing. _

_I don't know if I can live again without her. There's no colour in the world without her in it. There's no point. For once in my life, I need something and I'm clutching tight. I don't want to let go. _

* * *

Night is a perilous thing, the time of the seamy, cruel and wicked.

I thought that daylight had exposed our problems and that night was our time of revelry, but it was not so. Night could be just as harmful.

Every seedy eye was on me the second we stepped into the seedy truck stop. Oh, I'd had many eyes on me, but never this. Never a lecherous leer coupled with the hostile sense of destroying the outsider. I was in a world I could not hope to belong and they all knew it.

Ironically, "Stand By Me" was playing over a scratchy radio.

"_When the night has come and the land is dark...and the moon is the only light we'll see. No, I won't be afraid, no, I won't shed a tear just as long as you stand, stand by me." _

What the hell was I doing here?

I was a nineteen year old runaway in a dive with a man I wasn't married to. Places like these were not places for properly brought up girls. Their innocence is bait for people here, bait to destroy and make horrible. I was frightfully aware of how conspicuous I was, especially stepping in here with Eric. Sure, I was just another victim of the sordid underworld to them, another sleazy story, another small town scandal, but that didn't make my appearance any less suspicious.

"_So darling, darling, stand by me, oh, stand by me. Stand by me, Stand by me." _

Even though my dress was fairly modest, I felt horribly exposed. Instinctively, I reached for Eric's hand. He took it firmly, staring down every man in that joint with the threat of violence. His gait was slow and deliberate and his actions were translated easily, he'd unleash a world of hurt if I was touched.

I didn't belong in that world, their world. I didn't belong to Eric's world.

I felt an unholy judgment in their eyes, what everyone must see when they look upon me now. I felt pity. I was the sweet girl from the good family who'd trapped herself with a tramp who she'd run away with. I'd be another sacrifice to the underworld. Another warming to gamblers, you lose, you don't win.

My life would be nothing more than a series of judgments. These were but the first in the jury. Could I bear to feel this for the rest of my life? This was what being with Eric meant.

Grease hung in the stale beer scented air. The night had fallen full force and the darkness was only fought off with the sickly glow of fluorescent lights. Thanks to them, I could spot all the unsavoury stains in the truck stop. Her patrons were a gnarly bunch, itching for something to ignite a fight. The workers weren't much better.

Eric settled me into a table close to the doors as he went up to order, keeping himself between the other men in the makeshift rest stop. Once he was done, he sat next to me, glaring at everyone else like a pit bull.

When the food arrived, it looked barely suitable for consumption, but we were hungry, so we forced it down. The occasional glances from the others were unnerving. I realized that I had not uttered a word since I entered the establishment and that did nothing to belay my doubt or the fear in my heart at what could happen, the situation in the truck stop being the most immediate.

After I downed my last bite, Eric slapped some cash on the grimy table and began leading me out of the establishment, grabbing my hand. Only a voice stopped our exit.

"What is this? A dine and dash? Why won't a pretty little thing like you stay and play? Ditch the hippie for a real man." It was the pot bellied man with the dirty beard and beady eyes who had been ogling me all night. He made me feel disgusted.

I could sense the eyes of the rest of the truckers and patrons on me intently, gauging my reaction, excited for a fight. Before I could utter a word of protest, Eric had slipped his car keys into my hand and pushed me out the door. I was tossed into the cold night, my feet scraping along the gravel.

Terror gripped my heart as I watched Eric turn on his feet and stomp towards the man who'd spoken. His long blond hair whipped behind him as his hands slammed on the man's table. I longed to go to him, to stop him, but I'd been cast outside. His message was clear and I did not want to exacerbate things by going back inside. I had no wish, in fact, to re-enter it.

Even through the wind, the zipping cars and the door, I could hear Eric's voice, low and growling, threaten him. He was deadly.

"Listen," his eyes quickly flashed to the man's chest, "Felipe, while you were off sucking down beers and living off your mother's tits, I was in Vietnam. I did a lot in Vietnam. You know what I did there?"

Eric's short laugh was spine chilling and cold.

"Well, all you have to know is that I can and will fuck you up," he began, "I can make you feel more pain than you can imagine. And I can kill you just as easy. No hesitation. What's more is that I'll be just another vet who went crazy, I'll get off scot free for anything that happens between us here. But you, you touch her and I'll fuck you up so bad that you'll never touch another woman. Not only that, I'll make sure you get sent to prison. I wonder what'd happen to a no dick shit like you there."

Eric made of show of standing to his full, intimidating 6'5" height and catching the eyes of everyone else in the truck stop. The message was clear. His threat stood to everyone else as well.

With that, Eric stalked out the doors, the bells chiming violently. I was relieved that he had come out unscathed, but I was numb. He shuffled me off into the car quickly, barley allowing me to keep up on my shorter legs or get a word out. Extracting the keys from me, he peeled out of the parking lot in record time. Thor whined from the back seat as he was tossed to the side of the door.

His dog tags clattered against the glass, a storm had settled between us.

* * *

I was too wired after that confrontation with Felipe to stay in the motel room. That's how I found myself out by the highway, huddled against a pay phone. Sookie was in the shower and neither the radio nor the TV would clear my head. The night air and some walking should do the trick.

Besides, Thor needed some water and I needed to make a phone call.

Once the quarters clattered against their brethren, I dialled the number I'd known all my life. I knew my mom would be awake. She liked staying up with a book. It'd lead me into getting into trouble in my illustrious teenage years. What's more, it was summer and then there was Pam…

This whole situation was something I'd rather handle through my mom then through my dad.

The phone picked up on the third ring and I could just imagine my mom trudging from her reading chair in living room to the phone on the side table.

"Hello?" my mother's voice rang out more worn than usual.

"Hi, mom, it's Eric. How's Pam?"

She sighed heavily, "There's no change, honey. She's still in a coma, but she's stabilized since going into surgery."

"So the surgery worked?" I asked hopefully.

"We won't know for a few days. That's what the doctors are saying," she said, sounding frustrated, "Kris and Mikael are at the hospital and said they'd call if they heard any changes. Your dad has to work in the morning, so he's asleep. You know how he is. He's got to keep busy when he's distraught. He built a new shelf last night."

"So nothing's changed?" I was incredibly disappointed. I had hoped…I had wished…for something, anything.

"Yes. Are you alright, honey? Where are you?" she asked immediately concerned and I couldn't help but smile. Alva Northman knew the four of us very well. It was near impossible to pull one over her eyes. The last time that worked, it had been a mass joint cover up effort by the four of us over a broken vase from one of our sibling arguments. We suspected that she knew about it to this day. The silent pact between us was to never draw attention to that particular vase.

"We're an hour or so outside Des Moines, Iowa at a motel," I answered first, "I'm fine."

"We're?" my mom asked, her attention piqued.

"Dammit," I swore softly.

"Eric…" my mother warned.

I groaned, not knowing how to say this, "I met someone when I was in Bon Temps…and um…well…I…"

"A girl…" And suddenly I knew where Pam got her nosiness from.

"Yes," I admitted. Brevity was always appreciated by my mother. She was an English teacher after all and had read her fair share of less than…concise essays.

"What's this girl's name?"

"Sookie. Sookie Stackhouse," I said quietly.

"What's Sookie like?" she asked, and I could still hear the teasing in her voice. Maybe a hint of giddiness too. Something about her firstborn with a member of the opposite sex, I'm sure.

"She's got blue eyes, long blonde hair and an amazing smile. She's funny, smart. Sweet, but sassy and she's got a mouth, doesn't take my crap. Stubborn as hell. She kinda drives me crazy, but I feel like I can tell her things I can't say to anyone else," I explained.

"Sounds like the perfect girl for you," she said earnestly.

"Yeah…about that…" I began, "Her family's crazy uptight and was pawning her off into marriage with a wet blanket for her parents' prestige. They made her get engaged…"

"Eric…" she said and I knew I was stalling.

I sighed, putting it out there, "I asked her to come with me. She's got nothing there, mom."

I heard a sharp intake of breath over the line and a hesitation from her.

"Mom…?"

"How old is she?"

"Nineteen…"

"Is she pregnant?"

"NO! I just met her last week!"

"Soo…you plucked a girl from a restrictive Southern family and turned her into a runaway with no chance of being accepted back home, if the two of you should go down the tubes? Sound about right?" she paraphrased.

"I suppose…"

There was a long pause from my mom. I worried. I was suddenly aware of how improbable and how crazy this all was. The weight of reality was crushing down on me. Had I been thinking? Had I been selfish? I knew I was an asshole, but Sookie didn't deserve that. She was too good. Did I even deserve her? Had I completely ruined her? Had I been a complete bastard?

I only knew that I couldn't lose her, that I had grown to need her in a very short span of time. I'd never thought that possible. Yet, here I was, a culmination of my own selfish whims and desires?

"She must be something, Eric. I have never known you to be this…impulsive."

"She is," I admitted.

"You didn't marry her already, did you?" she asked.

"No!"

"Oh good, I want to meet her first," she said sarcastically.

My mom then sighed, "I suppose she can stay in the guest bedroom. You're staying in yours. I'll work on your father."

"Thanks mom. I love you." I said relieved. She had accepted a lot from us growing up. She had to have been a saint dealing with me after I was discharged from the military and all that damage. I thanked my lucky stars that I'd have one less battle to fight. I knew my dad would sway to my mom's side if it was important to her. He could be stubborn, ranging into bull headedness, but my mom knew how to work him.

"That's very sweet," she replied unimpressed, seeing right through me. I knew I'd be doing chores with no complaints the second I got home.

"I should go. We'll probably go straight to the hospital and arrive in the afternoon," I explained.

"Alright, honey, I'll see you then," she replied.

"Bye-" I started, but my mom cut me off.

"Do you love her, Eric?"

"…Yes," I said at last, "I think she's the one for me."

"I can't wait to meet her, then. Be careful, honey."

* * *

As I washed away the day from my body, I agonized, more tormented than ever. The water poured down my back and soothed my body, but not my mind. I couldn't help the tears that came, hoping the water would mask my sobs. Was this all a mistake?

We'd passed the truck stop and Des Moines in complete, awkward silence. I didn't know how to talk to him after what had happened. I didn't know what to do or say.

The events after pulling into the motel confused me even more.

Upon parking the car in front of a dim lamp, he reached over to pop the glove compartment, pulling out a small satchel. I heard objects clink against each other inside it. Eric pulled them out and pressed one into my hand, a ring. A wedding band, to be exact.

"Put it on," he instructed, as he slid on its mate on his own finger.

I balked, staring at the rose gold band, "What?"

Eric sighed, "The lobby window faces the turnoff and the parking lot. Whoever's in there can see who enters or exits the motel. They'll know I came in with a woman. I don't check in with you and he'll think I brought a prostitute. I don't have time for questioning from the police if the guy behind that desk is honest. I don't think you want that attention either. Secondly, you can't check in unless you're married."

I closed my eyes, damning the utilitarianism of it all. It was just practical business, nothing more. I slipped the ring on, wishing it wasn't all just a farce. It was hard being a woman sometimes.

"When'd you get them?" I asked.

"Yesterday afternoon, pawnshop in Bon Temps," Eric replied

I groaned as Eric opened the door, ushering us out. Amelia's entertainment just kept getting better and better. No doubt the pawnshop owner had spilled Eric's little escapade.

The wiry man behind the worn desk eyed us suspiciously as we entered holding hands, but seemed friendly enough, given his occupation. I sensed the suspicion was for his safety from the occupational hazard of the undoubtedly unsavoury guests who'd stayed here. The room was run down and in need of a new coat of paint and a few repairs, but it was thankfully clean.

"We'd like a room for the night, please," Eric announced.

"Sure," replied the man behind the desk. His nametag indicated his name to be Barry. "We've only got rooms with one bed remaining. Is that alright?"

"Of course," Eric replied.

Barry reached behind the desk and pulled out a form, along with a large bound book. "I'll need you two to fill these out."

Eric filled out the guest book before passing a pen to me. The moment of truth. I tried to get my hand to stop shaking. Eric squeezed my hand, giving me strength, beforeI set my hands on the table and filled out the line as 'Sookie Northman' and signed it like I had done it a million times and not for the first. I could see Barry's eyes inconspicuously glancing at our hands while we were filling things out.

"Thanks," Barry said once Eric had completed filling the form, "I'll just need your wife to sign the form as well. Plus some identification, please. Then you'll be on your way."

_SHIT! SHIT! SHIT!_

On the inside I was panicking, but outwardly, I smiled warmly at Barry, something my mother made me practice growing up, "Of course."

I signed the form, as well, where Barry indicated, hoping it matched the guest book. The only thing I could do was dig into my purse, retrieve my wallet and hand him my driver's licence.

"Umm…ma'am, the names don't match…" I could see the wheels turning behind Barry's eyes, taking in the names, the different states of the licences, my accent, his lack of accent…

Thinking quickly, I smiled and grabbed Eric's hand, "We only just got married a month ago and my name change petition hasn't come through."

I looked into Eric's eyes hopefully, "He's hoping there'll be a new licence for me by the time we get home to Chicago."

Eric smiled warmly at me and the look in his eyes melted my heart. I wished he wasn't just playing a part for Barry. He brought my hand to his lips and kissed it, "I am."

"Knowing you, we'll be lucky to get it by the time school starts at UIC," he teased.

Then looking at Barry, he said, "She's been there two years and still hasn't gotten her licence changed."

"Well, I didn't have a reason to," I replied saucily, causing Eric to smirk.

"Mmm…you're going back from visiting your folks?" Barry asked

"Yeah, we thought we'd have our honeymoon in New Orleans and then see my family before heading back. My grandma wasn't able to make it up for the wedding and I couldn't do without her meeting my husband, now could I?" I revealed. Never mind that Grandma LaFleur was just as horrible as her daughter and Adele Stackhouse had died a year and a half ago.

"No," Barry replied with a smile. He seemed to buy our story, thank God!

"Here's your room key, it's for room 218. Just go exit the lobby and head left, you'll see the stairs at the end of the building. 218 is the third door on the left once you go up the stairs," Barry explained.

We said our thanks and escaped into the cold air of the night, making our way to the room in bitter silence.

Eric had offered to bring our things up, so I announced I was going to be taking a shower. Taking off the ring and placing the thing on the bedside table, I ended the farce. I think we both needed space.

So this left me alone in the shower, trying to wash away my fears to no avail and I had to get out some time.

Deciding I could hold it off no longer, I turned off the water and wrapped myself in the slightly rough towel. Grabbing my clothes, I closed my eyes and opened the door. There was no sense in hiding all night in a tiny bathroom.

* * *

She emerged from the bathroom with a trail of steam billowing behind her like some sort of goddess. Her wet hair clung tightly to her most, damp shoulders. The towel did little to disguise her ripe, curvaceous form and revealed her long shapely legs. She captured my attention immediately from where I lay on top of the sheets of the bed. The radio I had on was nothing more than an idle distraction for my barrelling thoughts.

"_You've lost that lovin' feeling, whoa, that lovin' feeling. You've lost that lovin' feeling. Now it's gone...gone...gone..."_

I was instantly aroused by her, but the slouch of her shoulders and her uneasy demeanour, the sadness emanating from her body deflated that quickly. It seemed like she was trying too hard to hold it together as she placed her dress on a chair to prevent wrinkles.

As she walked by me, I reached my long arm for her hand and clasped it in mine, drawing her attention and pulling her to sit on the bed. Sitting up, I automatically pulled her into my arms, resting my back against the headboard. Her body slumped against mine and her arms clung to my chest.

I kissed her temple and inhaled her sweet, clean scent. She smelled like heaven, too good for the likes of me. God, she was addicting, my drug. "Are you okay?" I asked looking into her eyes.

"Yes," she whispered, but couldn't look me in the eye.

"Lover?"

Her shoulders shook, her breath caught and then she broke, sobbing. "No," she cried and it broke my heart.

I stroked her head and let her cry on my shoulder, "It's gonna be okay."

Sookie pushed off from my embrace, her eyes wild, "Eric, what are we doing? This is crazy! This is insane!"

"Sookie…"

"I can't go home, Eric! I can't go back! They all know what happened. I'll never be welcome there again!" she exclaimed, brokenly.

"What?"

"Amelia told me this afternoon. Andy Bellefleur caught us at the church and it's only a matter of time before they find out about your stunt with the rings! Everyone knows I'm the town slut! I'm nothing more than a disgraced floozy, a whore," she exclaimed.

"I don't even know what we are! I don't even know what this is! But here I am without a clue! I don't know what I'm doing. Is this real? Do you really care? Because I don't know anymore. I don't even know if this is worth it! I'm totally screwed now, Eric. I've got nothing and you're…I don't even know what you want from me. It's like I'm the biggest loser and everyone knows. I've gambled away everything. What did I do it for? I'm a joke, a scandal. What the hell am I doing? Going to your family when your sister's in a coma?" Her shoulders began to shake and tears began to flow freely from her face. I tried to brush them off, but she wouldn't let me. I was a failure.

"Are you faking this? Because you look at me like you do in that in the lobby and then you're cold…If you're just gonna break my heart, just tell me now. Please. I love you, I really do, but if this is all just a charade and a game to you…I need to know now," she whispered, begging. Those blue eyes I had fallen for looked back at me with indescribable pain that I knew I had put there myself. Regret hit me instantly. What had I done?

"What I feel for you is more real than anything I've had for a long time. You're the one thing I can't let go of. There's nothing selfless or giving about it," I admitted.

My head fell in shame, I couldn't look at her. "I'm sorry, I'm a selfish bastard, I know that. I'm an asshole and I never deserved you in the first place. You're too good for me. I'm not a good person and I've fucked you over with my shit too. You don't deserve my damaged goods. You deserve someone who can give you everything I can't, someone who's not broken and messed in the head, someone who's not a horrible killer, someone who doesn't hurt you. I'm not that person. I never will be. I destroy everything. It's all I'm good at. I can't even function normally anymore and now I've hurt you…I'm ruining you and I love you. How fucked up is that?"

She took my face in her hands and pulled it up to face hers, "No, Eric. You're the best person I've ever met and you have more compassion and heart than anyone from that horrible town. You're not the one who doesn't deserve me. I don't deserve you," she said with fierce resoluteness.

"I don't deserve someone who would have the courage to go against everything that Godforsaken place stands for, someone who saved me from it. I needed you and you were there," she whispered.

"Hate to disappoint you, but that's because I couldn't leave without you."

She sighed and pressed her forehead to mine, "Good thing I don't care what you think, then. You are beautiful to me and that's what matters. All the cracks are part of you and I don't care about that. I see those cracks, but I don't see a bad person. I see someone who tries to be who they want to be, who tries to be good. That's all that matters. I know it's not easy for you to care after all you've done, all you've been through, everything you've seen, but you still do. I know it. You saved Thor. And you'll drop everything for your sister and your family. That's not a bad person, Eric. It's just the opposite. I think it's miraculous that you're still intact morally."

"I just need to know that this crazy thing between us is real, because it scares the shit out of me," she confessed.

"See, I don't deserve you," I whispered against her lips. When I kissed her and tasted her full, pouty lips, I groaned. I could feel her burn all the way down. This was what I had been missing all day, the connection, the closeness.

"I can't promise that it won't be hard, that it'll be easy, but I meant what I said, that I'll try my hardest to do everything in my power to make you happy. I love you," I told her.

She smiled at me, like a weight had been lifted of her shoulders, "That's all I need."

"We're in this together, okay?" she said, "And I need you to talk to me, because when we're not on the same page, it scares me, like I'm on a runaway train and can't get off. I don't know what's inside your head and if we want this to work, I need to know what's there."

"And you don't scare me and I'm not going to run just because it's hard, okay?" Sookie continued, running her hand down my cheek.

"That I can do," I said, "You're not gonna ask for a ten karat diamond are you?"

She smiled, "No, that's for the five year anniversary. You should probably start saving up now."

"Think I could negotiate a better price?"

"Oh, I don't know, what do you have in mind?" she asked naughtily.

"This."

And then my mouth found hers again. All I felt was my burning desire for her, a desire that would never be quenched or satisfied. Her lips were the sweetest drug, her body a dragon I could not resist chasing. She tasted like honey and her mouth was so warm, so hot. I wanted nothing more than to taste more of her.

I traced a path to her jaw, down her neck. She was soft and still damp from her shower and it was delicious. Her neck was exposed to me willingly and I could not resist placing the open mouthed kisses there, licking her pulse point. I sucked her neck hard, knowing full well it would probably leave a mark. I felt the need to claim her. It was going to match the one fading on the other side of her neck from the church. The aching moans and her startled gasps did nothing but spur me onwards in my exploration, her clavicles her chest. My hands smoothed along her luscious shapely legs, her graceful arms and those wickedly tempting hips.

I felt her fingers tangle in my hair, grabbing, pulling, anything to keep feeling the sensations, as addicted to me as I was to her. Her free hand traipsed my back mindlessly, too lost to her pleasure to think. Everything about her drove me crazy, setting a fire inside that incited frenzy in me and I wanted more.

Without preamble, I swiftly pulled the towel off her body revealing her devilish nude form to me. Those gorgeous, full breasts, large and perfect, God I was obsessed with them. Her amazing breasts gave way to her small waist which flared into those sensual hips, fulfilling her erotic hourglass figure. I could do nothing but growl, thinking of her shapely thighs wrapped around my hips as my eyes travelled down and then back up to her flat stomach that lead me to her sacred mound of golden curls and her promised land.

She was absolutely beautiful. I needed to possess. She was mine.

Sookie caught my eyes full of mischievousness and shot me a smile ripe with promise, beckoning to me.

My hand made to touch her breast, but she swatted me away.

"You're not being very fair," she pouted.

"Why's that?"

"You're still clothed, I'm not," she explained wryly.

I took her hand and guided it to my painful arousal tenting my jeans, stroking her tiny hand along the bulge, relishing the friction, "That fair enough for you?" I hissed.

Her whimpering reply only made me moan.

With her body still naked and wet, she climbed onto mine, straddling my cock, grinding her hot pussy on my jean covered member. I was so over clothing, I wanted a different kind of friction. Luckily, Sookie was on the same wavelength. Her hands slipped under the hem of my t-shirt, slipping over my muscles, making me squirm, while I busied myself with grabbing her round ass to help her in the process of grinding me. Needless to say, I was thoroughly aroused by the irresistible blonde rubbing up against me.

"Eric?"

"Yeah," I asked from somewhere along her neck.

She giggled, "You're gonna need to lift your arms up, sweetie."

I just smiled and did as I was told as she pulled my shirt off and began to attack my chest with her mouth. She made me feel like I was sixteen years old, inexperienced, but unconcerned and free. Like nothing could touch me. She held all the storms that warred within my soul at bay. Her hands explored my back and sides as her wet kisses danced along my chest and pectorals. That sassy mouth of hers encased a nipple and sucked.

My hands cupped her soft breasts and squeezed, causing her to gasp, "Bite a little," I requested. She was more than happy to comply, rigorously as I lavished attention to her breasts, teasing her peaked nipples with my fingers.

I groaned as her hand found my bulge again and stroked teasingly. Two can play that game.

I slipped a hand from her breast, trailing down her stomach, brushing against her golden hairs. Distracting her from opening my pants, my fingers traced her lips before inserting into her hot, wet sheath. Fuck, she was wet.

Sookie squirmed against my hand, bucking and moaning.

I caught her open mouth with mine and pulled her closer, so that our naked bodies brushed against each other tantalizingly. Her breasts were pressed against my chest as we continued to tease each other's lower bodies.

At last, she was able to pull open my belt, pop the button and slip the zipper down, making sure to cop a feel, relieving some pressure on my throbbing erection. I groaned in relief.

She just smiled at me.

The thing with Sookie is that each sexual experience she had liberated her even more, emboldening her every single time. This time was no exception. It was quite possibly the hottest thing I'd ever seen. She pulled my fingers out from where they were inserted into her core and sucked her own juices off them. Her sweet mouth enclosed on each digit and her velvet tongue caught every last drop with precision. I could feel my dick twitch.

I pulled her head to mine and kissed her passionately, wanting to taste her flavours, her tongue slipping against mine.

She broke away from me long enough to grab the waist of my boxers and jeans and pull them off my legs, leaving me as naked as she was, trailing wet kisses down my body in her wake. I thought it was rather cute she took the time to grope at my ass. The girl was a bit obsessed with it, but I can't say I minded in the slightest bit.

A moment's hesitation stopped her briefly as she considered my considerable length. She caught my eyes questioningly, so I smiled my reassurance and was met with her mouth enveloping the head of my penis. Her tongue traced my slit, finding the precum. I watched her head bob back and force as she sucked my dick hard. She wrapped her hand along the excess length and pumped. Taking her free hand, I brought it to my balls and helped her massage them.

I swore I saw that little vixen wink at me as my eyes rolled into my head in ecstasy. It wasn't long before my muscles were tensing and sweet release took me. I yelled out her name, blowing out my load all over her breasts and her body, breathing hard.

She was sticky, coated in me, my cum, completely marked and I was turned on again. Her body glistened of sweat, water and cum. My beautiful mess. I wanted nothing more than to fuck her.

I took her body and flipped her onto her back, my mouth assaulting her breasts, sucking her nipples hard, tasting myself all over her. She was screaming in pleasure and grabbing my shoulders hard, digging her fingernails. I sweetened the pot by inserting my fingers into her folds again, rubbing against her sweet spot, using my thumb to flick her clit.

Kissing a trail from her heaving breasts to her glistening pussy, I brought her off with my fingers and tongue, watching her body shudder and shake with pleasure.

As her orgasm took over her body, I repositioned myself and wrapped her legs around my waist before I roughly sheathed myself inside her. Her head was thrown back and a cry of absolute joy sounded from her throat in surprise.

I could feel my body weep with the joy of completion, oneness. She stilled against me and her eyes popped open. It was then I knew she must have felt it too. Our connection, it was real. In that moment, I knew that we were both open books, revealing everything to each other and that all was right and perfect with us. I was desperate to have her, to cling to this feeling, the sex of the body, heart and mind. I longed for the synergy that existed between us, where we were on the same page. After everything that I had lost, she was the one pure thing in my existence.

She kissed me hard and I returned the favour, plunging into her tight folds. Her nails were scratching my back, undoubtedly drawing angry red marks that I didn't care about as I pounded into her, setting a frenetic pace. Our bodies pressed tightly against each other. I felt like I was on fire, as if flames were very well licking up my veins. My hands squeezed her hips and toyed with her breast as our tongues fought a winless battle. She met me thrust for thrust, our cries muffled against our mouths. Her body moved against mine like liquid flame.

Needing more, I hooked one of her legs around my shoulder. This particular new angle caused her to scream in the most delightful way and I could feel myself bury even deeper inside her. It caused her walls to constrict on my cock.

Just as I started to be unable to take the tightening of her folds, my thrusts becoming erratic, her hand cupped my ass and kneaded, setting off my orgasm, releasing my load inside her. Her body tensed against mine and she suddenly became limp as the golden waves ripped through her body.

I pulled her tightly against my body as we kissed, stroking her back. Her leg was still wrapped against my hips and I was still buried inside her. I placed kisses around her face and she cuddled into my arm, her hands exploring my chest and abs.

We were all sweaty, dirty and primal, panting and spent. She looked completely pillaged. I loved it.

Her finger traced my bottom lip for a moment before she sucked it in her mouth.

"We need to get cleaned up," she said after a moment.

I smirked, "What if I like you all dirty?" I asked, trailing a finger along her sticky breast, "It's really sexy."

"Well, I don't want to sleep dirty and we need to get the sheets changed. Looks like I'll have to take another shower," she complained, not very disappointed.

After we hopped in the shower and got even dirtier before getting clean, I called Barry to bring up some clean sheets. Just before he hung up the phone, I could hear him mumbling something about newlyweds. While Sookie was brushing her hair out in the bathroom, a knock sounded at our door. Barry couldn't look at me when he dropped off the sheets. I suppose it might have been my receiving him in just my jeans. Nevertheless, he was entertaining, to say the least.

At long last, after we changed the sheets, Sookie and I fell asleep together like the day began, naked, whole and complete.

* * *

I watched the afternoon sun burning down on St. Paul, Minnesota. We were loitering in the parking lot of United Hospital, still entombed in our little world in the car. It was a beautiful cocoon. The wind tickled our hair through the open windows and Thor was panting slightly in the heat. I knew achingly that going outside meant all the trials and tribulations of yesterday. The world was not so kind or generous. It wasn't a charmed existence. No, it was brutal and nasty, mostly hurtful.

We had been parked for a whole minute, but I hadn't moved from my seat, fearing what lay beyond. This time it wasn't just strangers, it was Eric's entire family, his entire family wrapped up in their grief and the uncertain survival of their youngest child. How could I breach their realm at a time like that? I did not belong here.

I did not belong here with my Southern roots, Louisiana accent and lack of winter clothes. They dressed differently here. It made me nervous. Hell, it was a good ten or twenty degrees cooler. I was a marked outsider. My nerves rolled and stirred in my stomach causing knots.

I could feel Eric's concerned gaze on me. He took my hand out of its death grip with its partner and rubbed the circulation back into the white fingers.

"They'll love you, I promise."

"I'll wait in the car or take Thor out…It's not right to intrude on you guys. I'd hate to do that," I rambled.

"For me? Please," he requested.

His eyes were worn and tired, he sighed, "I need you there with me."

And I realized I could not say 'no' to those eyes. Especially when I realized that he did indeed need me in some small insignificant way, because it was going to hurt when he saw Pam.

I took a deep cleansing breath. It did nothing to calm me down.

"Okay," I said and before I ran out of courage, I pulled open the car door and stepped out of the car.

* * *

_My love is all I have to give...without you I don't think I could live..._

Just thought I'd throw that out there...it's what this chapter totally reminded me of. And there was a time when I loved the Backstreet Boys to pieces. Yes, something happened to me between the BSB and Guns N' Roses that seriously corrupted me lol. ;) We should also throw in a little "Stand By My Woman" by Lenny Kravitz lol.

I just realized towards the end that I wanted to include some songs...and I'm a sucker for Motown stuff. I grew up with it from my babysitter who put it on in the car. I also realized it was a thread I wanted to continue from the last chapter...It's kinda difficult though, finding songs in that era that I could use and know of...last chapter I really restricted myself...but this one, I just went...Go for it! Lol.

I need to thank EBCM for her VERY helpful suggestions since I've never been to St. Paul. She's been my idea pinger for the better part of writing this story.

The first three paragraphs I wrote were when Eric and Sookie wake up in the car and I went…*Barf* Too fluffy. I have an aversion to fluffy...it's hard for me to write fluffy. I added the bit about things taking a turn and went…ahh…much better lol. I added the letters later. There's loooooots of religious and sexual imagery and the whole motif of fire and a storm…And uh…LaFluer…it's Cajun. Hehehe. This chapter had a funny way of actually ending up longer than I expected it would be. I didn't think it'd be this long. When I was half way through, I thought it would just be a little shorter...but I had to add things and flesh things out a bit more and the scenes needed more variety and this thing ended up being LOOOONGER. About 2 to 4000 words longer than I expected. The last ten pages made me go...wow.

As usual, I'd love to hear your feedback!

Now it's time for me to Cowboy up! After that, I'm going to take an excursion into a fic that I've been wanting to write since September but haven't gotten to...It's not my Jessica oneshot...but it is a TBverse fic. I'll probably get back to Every Sunset around late December/mid January.

~simba_317


End file.
